Every Time
by dupton
Summary: COMPLETE Chandler is in love with a married Monica. But when she tells him something, he is forced to make a choice between her and himself....
1. Chapter 1: She Can't Love Me

Every Time  
  
Chapter One: She Can't Love Me  
  
A/N: I'm testing the waters with this chapter. If people like it and review, then I'll continue it. If, on the other hand, people think it sucks big time and ignore it, then I'll leave it. So it's up to you. Review if you like it, don't if you hate it.  
  
And this takes place sometime in late season 4, although the last few episodes of season 3 went a bit differently, as you'll discover.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler stared down at the picture frame in his hands, his face dark, his hands stained with tears.  
  
Every time. It happened every time. Every time he looked at her, every time he looked at her picture, every time he saw someone that looked like her in the street. Every time he saw a mop in the window of a shop. Every time her face appeared in his head, and his heart broke out in wild convulsions. There was the expression "she is my everything". Chandler had always believed it to be overused, but it was exactly how he felt. Unfortunately, he wasn't her everything.  
  
Sometimes he felt so angry that he'd fallen in love with her that he felt like smashing the picture on the ground. But then he'd turn the picture over again, and there was her face, smiling up at him, and he calmed, his heart still panging for her to be there next to him, but her face enough to steal his anger.  
  
She was his calm in the storm, his oasis in the desert, his flower in the chopped down forest. But she was also the one who raged up the storm, the one who dried out the land, the one who cut the trees. She was his love, but she made him hate.  
  
She was married. Married. And unlike some people, Chandler was not into adultery. Not that she'd have gone along with it anyway. Her husband could give her anything she wanted with just a quick phone call. He was a millionaire. And Chandler earned what- well, nowhere near as much. Pete could beat Chandler in every department. He could even have beaten him up, given his new status as Ultimate Fighting Champion.  
  
Chandler was lonely every second. Sure there was Joey, Phoebe, Rachel and Ross, but they had no idea what went on inside Chandler's befuddled mind. They just sat next to him quietly, knowing better than to ask what the matter was.  
  
She was his everything, but she left him with nothing.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica pressed the buzzer and waited for him to answer. After a few seconds, his voice crackled into her ears. "Hello?" he said.  
  
"It's Monica," she said. He didn't reply, but within seconds the door swung open. She walked slowly upstairs, considering how to say what she was thinking about. It shouldn't be to hard- Chandler was her confidant. The one she told everything. She didn't know when it had switched from Rachel to Chandler. Probably around the time Rachel had gone back with Ross.  
  
She reached apartment 19 and rapped on the door. It immediately opened, and Chandler smiled at her. "Hey," he said, closing the door again as Monica walked past.  
  
She took a seat on one of the barcaloungers, amazed at how comfortable they were. Chandler sat down next to her, stealing a lovelorn glance at her in the second when she looked away.  
  
"What's up?" he asked, concern in his voice. Monica looked worried.  
  
Monica looked at him. "It's just..." started, faltering as she thought. "Well, you know how you get into a routine, but you get kind of bored of it after a while?" she asked, and Chandler nodded. "Well, I'm kind of feeling like that."  
  
Chandler frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked.  
  
Monica groaned and repositioned herself so she faced Chandler. "My marriage," she said bluntly. "It's just not... exciting anymore."  
  
Chandler's eyes widened. "What?!" he spluttered.  
  
"It's not that I don't love Pete anymore, it's just, well, it's lost it's... spark. It's not surprising or fun anymore. And that's what I want. Do you understand?" Monica asked, looking at Chandler.  
  
He just stared at her. "You- you- you don't want to be with Pete anymore?" he asked slowly.  
  
Monica frowned. "No. Yes. Oh, I don't know. I just.... I'm just in a place where I want some excitement in my life, and well, having everything and anything you want isn't everything. I want to be loved."  
  
"I'm- I'm sure you are loved," said Chandler, his heart thumping wildly.  
  
Monica smiled. "I guess so. But I still want surprises. I mean, what is life without surprises?"  
  
-*-*-*-  
  
She came over again today. And what she said sent my world spinning.  
  
She doesn't want to be with him anymore. Millions of dollars and she doesn't want him anymore. I guess money isn't everything.  
  
She said she wants excitement. If only she knew that that I could give her what she wanted given, and I'm right in front of her nose. But that's impossible. I can't tell her. It would ruin everything. And I don't want to lose her. She's all that keeps me going. But of course, if she doesn't exist, I'd have no problem.  
  
But she does. She exists. I know that better than anyone else. I see her every second of every day. But she's not mine.  
  
I told her she is loved. If only she knew what I'd really meant. I love her. I love her more than him. He wouldn't stop trying to be the Ultimate Fighting Champion for her when she asked him to. But he won, and they stayed together. If only they hadn't.  
  
If only.  
  
People always say that, and it's the most stupid sentence in the English language. Things don't change just because you want them to. It's no good wishing. You have to act.  
  
If only I'd acted. If only I'd realised I loved her before he came along.  
  
I don't remember falling in love with her. It's not like I woke up one day and realised "Oh! I'm in love with my best friend!". Maybe I always loved her, and never realised. Or maybe it grew, slowly progressing until it became big enough for me to see. If that were so, then it would still be swelling inside me. That's certainly what it feels like. I'll burst soon. Burst like a tomato. Red. Like a heart. A broken heart.  
  
My heart isn't broken. She hasn't broken it. She can't if she never knew. But it hurts. It hurts more than any other pain. It's constant, panging in my chest. I try and wash it away, but it's always there. Always. Every time.  
  
I'm her confidant. She's told me that. I'm her best friend. Not her husband, not her boyfriend, but her best friend. And once you're in that position, it's difficult to move. It's possible- Ross taught me that. But he also taught me that it means a lot of pain and heartbreak.  
  
I don't want it to be like that. I want it to be like one of those old black and white romance movies, where the hero sweeps the woman from the grasp of the baddie and carries her off into the sunset. I want her to love me. I want her to be mine, forever and for always. But she can't. It's impossible.  
  
And I can't tell her. She'd hate me. And I can't break them up. She'd hate me even more. She expects me to help her, to make her marriage more exciting, so that she doesn't break Pete's heart. But I don't know if I can do that. I don't want them together. I want her with me. But I want her to be happy. And I know she wants him.  
  
She can't love me. I know that. But if only she knew.  
  
If only. But she can't love me. 


	2. Chapter 2: Learnt

Every Time  
  
Chapter Two: Learnt  
  
A/N: Well, I guess fourteen good reviews to one bad is a good enough reason to continue. To that reviewer, I'd just like to say that you wasted your time. If you don't like this, don't read it.  
  
To everyone else who reviewed, thank you very much! I even got a couple of the best writers I know reviewing, so I'm happy. I hope you all review again!  
  
And a question to the reviewer called "K"... could you tell me more about that song "Invisible"? I'd love to hear it, but I've never heard of it. If you could tell me, either in a review or via email, I'd be very grateful.  
  
Finally, this may not be updated for another couple of weeks, 'cause I have two weeks of exams. Wish me luck! And as always, read, enjoy and review!  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler sat in the barcalounger; his bright eyes the only light in the pitch-black surroundings. Joey's snores could be heard coming from his bedroom, as he slept untroubled. He didn't have the burden that Chandler had, of being in love with an unattainable woman.  
  
Joey went from woman to woman, never really stopping to think about how he could have felt about them. For Joey, it was all about the sex. And of course, if for Joey it was all about sex, that meant that for Chandler, it was all about having to hear the sex. He tried to shut his ears, he tried to listen to his personal stereo, turning it up as loud as possible.... but it always beat through his defences, serving a constant reminder of Joey's guilt free "relationships", and causing a constant pang because Joey was happy and he wasn't.  
  
It was all quiet tonight, though. Joey's girlfriend of six months (probably a record for him, Chandler thought, his bitterness getting the better of him), Kathy, was out of town for the week, so no animal passion tonight. Chandler was extremely grateful, since he desperately needed time to think.  
  
Monica didn't want to be with Pete anymore. She said she still did, but it was obvious what she meant. She just didn't want to admit to herself. Which was totally understandable. Both Chandler and Monica had been there as Ross' marriage had failed, and seen what it had done to him. Monica didn't want that to happen to her, and Chandler didn't want it to happen to her either. Of course, Pete wasn't going to turn into a lesbian, but that wasn't the point.  
  
The point was: what was Chandler going to do?  
  
And then there was the others: Ross and Rachel happy, Joey and Kathy happy, even Phoebe had someone at the moment. Chandler would walk into the coffeehouse and see four happy couples on the sofa and chairs, all kissing and cuddling, leaving no room for him. He didn't want them to hate him, so he just slipped quietly out before they saw him. He didn't fit in; he was like a penguin in the desert, or a scorpion at the North Pole. He wasn't in the group any more, and all because he was alone while the others weren't.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler stopped outside the window of the coffeehouse and bent down, peering in through the glass.  
  
Good. Only Ross and Phoebe were in there. No happy couples for him to contend with today.  
  
He pushed open the door and Ross and Phoebe looked around. "Hello, children," he said, putting on his usual front of normality.  
  
"Hey," said Ross, turning back to the magazine he was reading.  
  
"Hey, Chandler," said Phoebe cheerfully. "Where you been?" she asked.  
  
Chandler frowned. "At work," he said slowly.  
  
Phoebe clicked her fingers. "Right! I knew that!" she smiled, and Chandler shook his head in disbelief, but not managing to stop himself smiling.  
  
"Where's Rachel?" Chandler said to Ross.  
  
"What?" said Ross, looking up. "Oh, she's gone shopping with Mon. Yeah, they went to... blow all their hard earned money on clothes they don't need. But at least I'm not paying!"  
  
Chandler smiled. "What about Pete?" he asked, a hint of his bitterness entering his voice.  
  
"Oh, he went to Boston. Apparently there's some kind of big opportunity, but he won't tell anyone about it until it's confirmed. Says it's really big," said Ross, sipping his coffee. "Uh, this is cold! I'm gonna warm it up." He walked away.  
  
Immediately, Phoebe jumped onto the couch next to Chandler. "Chandler, what is wrong with you?" she asked worriedly.  
  
Chandler stared at her. "What? Nothing's wrong."  
  
Phoebe scoffed. "Please, Chandler, I can tell that something is wrong. You've been like this for months. Now what is it?" she asked, staring at him intently.  
  
Chandler slapped her hand away from his shoulder. "Nothing is wrong. Now leave me alone," he said, grabbing his briefcase back from the table and walking out.  
  
He swung open the door and turned right, banging right into someone. He heard shopping bags fall to the floor, and bent down to help the person.  
  
"I'm sor...." he started, but then he saw his hand was touching hers, and he looked up to see Monica looking at him. "Monica!" he exclaimed, his breathing quickening. He tried to speak, but he just stared at her. She looked back, but didn't see the love that filled his eyes.  
  
Monica looked down at her bags. "That's okay," she said, moving her hand away from his and starting to gather her bags up again. She stood up. "Are you coming in?" she asked, indicating the coffeehouse.  
  
Chandler suddenly found his voice. "No- no, I was just leaving. I'll- I'll see you later, okay?"  
  
Monica smiled. "Yeah. Hey, are we still on for tonight?" she asked, starting to push open the door.  
  
"Yeah, I wouldn't miss it for the world. 8, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
Monica smiled again and walked into the coffeehouse. Chandler stood silent for a second, and then walked off down the street. As he rounded the corner, he felt someone hit him on the shoulder. "Who...Phoebe! What are you doing?!"  
  
Phoebe stared at him incredulously. "You're in love with Monica!" she exclaimed in disbelief.  
  
Chandler's eyes widened in alarm. "What?!" he yelled. "What the hell are you talking about?!"  
  
Phoebe looked at him scornfully. "Oh please, it was so obvious! Why did your breath speed up by five times just then? Why did you loose the power of speech? Why are you always so miserable? You're in love with Monica!" she shouted.  
  
Chandler put his hand over her mouth. "Shut up!" he hissed. "She's only around the corner!"  
  
Phoebe slapped his arm away. "So you admit it! You are! But that's wrong.... she's married, Chandler."  
  
Chandler pulled Phoebe away from the shop they were outside and sat her down on a bench. "You don't think I know that? I'm the one who has to sit there watching them every day, all lovey-dovey...."  
  
Phoebe turned his head to hers. "Look, there's nothing wrong with being in love, Chandler. It's just... you know you can't have her, Chandler?"  
  
Chandler groaned. "Of course I know that. That's the problem. If I could have her, I'd be much happier. But I can't."  
  
Phoebe smiled. "How long?" she asked quietly, rubbing his hand in sympathy.  
  
Chandler looked down. "I'm not sure. Eight months, maybe nine. It just... it jsut hurts so bad, Phoebe, and I don't know what to do."  
  
Phoebe considered. "Neither do I," she said. "Come on, let's go home."  
  
And she walked him home, her arm around him, letting him sob into her shoulder.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica sat in silence, letting Ross and Rachel's comments wash over her. Her hair lay on the back of the chair, her shopping bags spread on the floor around her. The busy chatter of the coffeehouse was a quiet backdrop to her thoughts, which were trying desperately to make sense of themselves.  
  
What the hell had happened out there?  
  
One minute, she's exhausted from coming back from a day of shopping, the next... all her thoughts swam around her head, trying to fit themselves into some kind of order. A spark? With Chandler?  
  
She'd never had a spark with Chandler. He was her confidant, nothing more. She'd told him so. She'd even told him her biggest secret. She was bored with Pete. It was true; she was. It wasn't that he was horrible to her, he just got a little too wrapped up in business, and didn't pay her enough attention. She thought she still loved him, but she couldn't be sure. And now this spark with Chandler.... well, it didn't make any sense. It was unthinkable.  
  
She put it out of her mind and drank her coffee, soon wrapped up in a discussion with Rachel about shopping, which Ross said was a complete waste of money. But it still hung over her, and she knew it wouldn't go away. She'd have to confront it.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Chandler!"  
  
Chandler looked away from the mirror and saw Phoebe poke her head round the door.  
  
Phoebe gasped. "Looking sharp there, Channy!" she smiled.  
  
Chandler smiled weakly. "Well, this place is kinda posh, and Monica said I had to dress up or we wouldn't get in, so..."  
  
"How you holding up?" asked Phoebe, as Chandler turned his attention back to the mirror, trying to straighten his tie.  
  
"I'm okay, I guess.... it's just, every time I see her, I just wanna grab her and kiss her, but I can't, y'know? Every time. It happens every time."  
  
Phoebe smiled. "Well, I just popped in to see how you were doing. I hope you have a good time tonight. And be careful!"  
  
Chandler smiled at her. "I'll try." Phoebe's head disappeared. "But I can't promise anything," he said quietly to himself, as the door slammed, leaving him alone and lonely. 


	3. Chapter 3: Vein Of Lightening

Everytime  
  
Chapter Three: Vein Of Lightening  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. None of them. Still hoping for that EBay sale, though.  
  
A/N: Okay, I lied. But I have a lot more time during these exams than I was expecting, so I wrote this.  
  
I'm not sure about this chapter. It's a bit longer than the previous ones, but for some reason I feel really insecure about it. If you hate it, I want to know.  
  
This chapter is where the summary starts to take hold. I will say no more. Except that the lyrics are from Please Forgive Me by David Gray, and I would be very grateful for reviews. As long as they don't insult me. Just tell me gently that I suck. ;)  
  
*****  
  
Please forgive me  
  
If I act a little strange,  
  
For I know not what I do,  
  
Feels like lightening running through my veins,  
  
Everytime I look at you,  
  
Everytime I look at you....  
  
*****  
  
Monica hummed as she looked between the dresses laid out before her.  
  
It was fifteen minutes before she was due to leave for the restaurant, and she still hadn't decided which one to wear. Which one would Chandler like best?  
  
Wait a minute, why was she asking herself that? Why should it matter, which dress Chandler liked? Why was she trying to impress him, when he wasn't her husband?  
  
Chandler as her husband.... she slid to the floor as her mind immediatly seemed to create that mental image. She saw herself on the couch in Central Perk, her head resting on Chandler's chest, his lips kissing her hair, both of them with big smiles on their faces.... she saw herself kissing him in the backseat of a car, a crowd cheering behind them.....  
  
Oh my God. She was imagning herself.... at her and Chandler's wedding.  
  
But she was still married to Pete. Is married to Pete.  
  
"Ok, ok," she whispered to herself, "Just stop it. You love Pete. Just because you had some stupid moment with Chandler this afternoon doesn't mean you don't love Pete. Pete is your husband, and you love him. Not Chandler. Pete. Now, just pick out a dress and put it on."  
  
"Mon?" yelled Pete. "The cab'll be here in a minute!"  
  
"Coming," shouted Monica. She scanned the dresses in front of her again. "Uh, it's too hard!" she groaned quietly. "The blue one. Just go with the blue one." She moved to pick up the dark blue dress laid to the right of the bed. "Oh, but Chandler always says you look great in the red one," she said, moving to it. "No!" she said harshly to herself. "Definately the blue one." She picked it up, and walked into the bathroom, not daring to look back at the red dress still laid on the bed.  
  
She hung the dress on the shower rail and turned to look at herself. Her mouth was extremely dry, and her hair had gone frissy because of all the times she'd run her hair though it in frustration.  
  
"Oh, your hair is horrible!" she said to her reflection, grabbing a brush from the shelf and running it through her hair. "That's better. Now where's that chapstick?" she said absently, opening the cabinet behind her and searching for it. "Ah, got it." She ran it over her lips. "Better take this for the road," she said, throwing it onto her bed towards her purse.  
  
*****  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Monica emerged from the bathroom, the blue dress wrapped tightly around her, her hair around her shoulders shining in the moonlight that shone through the window. Hearing the cab outside sound it's horn, she quickly grabbed her purse off the bed and ran hastily down the stairs.  
  
"Pete!" she yelled, grabbing her black high-heeled shoes from the cupboard and trying to push them quickly on her feet.  
  
Pete's head appeared around his office door. "Yeah?" he said.  
  
Monica glared at him, still trying to jam the shoes on her feet. "Why didn't you tell me the cab was here? I'm gonna be late! Chandler'll think I've stood him up," she said in frustration, slamming her foot down in an attempt to squash it into the shoe, and in the process snapping the heel. "And now I've broken my favorite pair of shoes! Great!" she snipped sarcastically, snatching them up off the floor and throwing them angrily down the hall.  
  
Accidentally, one shoe flew astray and hit Pete in the face, causing him to yell, "Ow! That freakin' hurt! What the hell are you doing?" He groaned as he gently touched his cheek. "You know, it's not like you're going out on a date or something. I never got why you always try so hard for Chandler, anyway," he added, wincing in pain.  
  
Monica grabbed another pair of shoes from the rack and whacked her foot down, this time succeeding in getting her foot into the shoe. "Maybe because," she said, pushing her foot down into the other shoe," he actually pays me attention. Maybe because he doesn't work all the time, unlike someone else I could mention," she said, glaring at him.  
  
Pete frowned. "What is THAT supposed to mean?" he said, anger rising in his voice.  
  
"Maybe if work didn't ALWAYS come first, you would KNOW what THAT means!" She stormed towards the door, grabbing her coat from the rail by the door, and left, slamming the door behind her in anger.  
  
Pete snatched the pair of shoes off the floor and threw them hard into the trashcan, rubbing his swelling bruising cheek as he walked heavily back into his office.  
  
*****  
  
The cab jumped as it passed over a hole in the road, but Monica didn't notice.  
  
What was going on with her? A few weeks ago, everything had been fine. Well, maybe not fine, exactly. That's when she first started to notice. When she first started to really see how Pete's attention had become divided.  
  
Work was far more important, to him, and she wondered, just when had it started? If she thought about it really hard, would she be able to pinpoint the exact moment, that her marriage started to fall apart? Was it falling apart? Was it salvageable?  
  
Did she even want to salvage it? She briefly wondered what he was thinking, in the wake of her leaving the way she did, having yelled at him. Having hit him with her shoe. He knew something was bothering her, she was sure of it.  
  
Then there was Chandler, and the 'moment' they had shared earlier. But, was it really a 'moment', or was it just an illusion, brought on by an unhappy marriage?  
  
More than anything, she'd wanted the storybook wedding and life, and now that longtime dream seemed to be slipping away. She didn't want her marriage to fail, but if something didn't change, and soon, she feared that it would.  
  
She didn't want that. She didn't want to be like Ross, always sad; always moping; always dragging his feet, unable to participate in conversations without stopping twenty-something times in mid-sentence, struggling against tears.  
  
But then, look where Ross was now. With Rachel. In love. With his soulmate. There was no better place.  
  
Was Pete her soulmate?  
  
She wasn't sure. Ask her that a week ago, her answer would have been a definite yes, but now she found herself doubting everything that her life was made of. Her life revolved around Pete, his life. She had her own life, with her friends, but being with Pete had always come first.  
  
It wasn't perfect, it wasn't wonderful, it wasn't magical.... but it had worked. It had worked when Pete had spent time with her, talked to her, included her. But she felt him slipping away from her now, and had no doubt that her outburst earlier had only done her relationship with him more damage.  
  
She didn't want to push him away, but if she didn't start thinking before she spoke, she was going to end up alone in the street. She knew she had loved Pete, but she wasn't sure of anything anymore, not even that.  
  
But Chandler... Chandler. Chandler seemed very complex these days. Before, she'd always been able to read his mind, but now he seemed to be more intense, more confused. She had no idea what it was.  
  
She'd tried to find out, but he always bent the conversation in another direction and she became so engrossed in that, she forgot about it. She often wondered why he wouldn't open up to her, but Chandler had had a lot of hardship in his life, and he didn't exactly need her breathing down his neck.  
  
But he was still her best friend. He was the person she saw the most. He was her confidant. He was the one she could go to with her problems, and know that he would always do whatever he could to help her solve them. He was always there for her.  
  
Nothing else. He was her friend. He helped her. He was not "her's".  
  
And now, she needed his help.  
  
*****  
  
Chandler sat quietly at the table, looking around at the people in the restaurant. In the middle of the room, a large group, evidently celebrating a birthday. In the corner, a young couple were kissing sweetly over the table. Next to Chandler, an elderly couple, smiling at each other over their meal.  
  
And here he was, all alone. He would have given anything for it to be him and Monica in place of one of them. They could be the young couple. They could be celebrating her birthday. They could be the elderly couple. Together. But they weren't.  
  
He heard the restaurant door open, and saw Monica walk in, dressed in a stunningly tight silken blue dress. He looked down, feeling his cheeks flush at what he was thinking.  
  
She spotted him at the table and walked over, handing her coat to the waiter, who disappeared through a door. She sat down at the table, opposite Chandler, and gently eased the chair in. "Hi, Chandler," she said slowly, still wary of her thoughts.  
  
He looked up, glad her lower body was now hidden by the high table. "Hey, Mon," he said, smiling. "What took you so long?"  
  
"Oh, you know, traffic and stuff. I'm sorry I kept you waiting," she said, smiling at him as the waiter handed them menus. "So, um, have you been waiting long?"  
  
"Oh, no, um, not too long. Actually, I was a little late myself." He didn't know why he was lying. It really wouldn't make that much of a difference, if he had told her the truth; that he had been there for a half hour. Maybe he just wanted to spare her from feeling guilty.  
  
Silence fell over them as they looked over the menu, and even though Monica had decided rather quickly what she wanted, she said nothing, keeping up pretenses, afraid she would slip up and say something she shouldn't.  
  
Chandler was looking unusually suave in his dinner jacket; funny how she'd never noticed before. She wished she wasn't noticing now. She wished she could get him off her mind.  
  
Chandler was staring intently at the menu, trying to make sense of the blurred words upon it. Knowing Monica was only on the other side of it wearing that breathtaking dress was too hard to keep his mind off, but he didn't dare look.  
  
He swallowed. "So, Mon.... how was your day?"  
  
She looked up. "Er... fine," she said shortly, looking down again. 'What is wrong with you?!' she thought to herself. 'You can't even look at him now! He's gonna suspect something!'  
  
She forced herself to look up again. "Well, shopping with Rach was fun, then I just hung out with her and Ross at the coffeehouse. Nothing special."  
  
"Oh," said Chandler, trying to think of something to say and failing miserably.  
  
He stared at her as she scanned the menu, taking in the dress she was wearing, the way it complemented her curves to perfection, the way it hugged her body so tightly. He gulped, and fanned himself slowly as he felt the colour in his cheeks rise.  
  
"You... you look beautiful," he said.  
  
She looked up. "What?" she said slowly.  
  
Chandler's eyes widened. "I said... I said you look beautiful," he smiled.  
  
Monica dropped the menu. "I- I think I need the toilet," she said, standing up and almost running to the bathroom.  
  
Chandler sighed and leaned back. Looking that beautiful, he was bound to slip up, revealing his secret to her. Did she seriously have no idea, the affect looking like that would have on him?  
  
*****  
  
Monica raced breathless into the bathroom, pulling desperately at her tight dress.  
  
"Oh God!" she squealed. "I can't do this, I can't..." she cried, slamming her hands down on the sink counter and wiping her sweaty forehead. "I can't do it..." she whispered.  
  
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked frantic.  
  
He was doing this to her and he didn't even realise that he was. He was confusing her like never before. He was tearing apart all parts of her life and putting them back together in a different order.  
  
She didn't know what she wanted anymore. Everything that had made sense to her before was suddenly all jumbled up before her eyes, and she couldn't see past it.  
  
She couldn't let this happen. It must be stopped. She must not let things change. She liked things the way they were. All this dreaming and wishing wasn't going to get her anywhere. Wishing Pete would pay her more attention. Dreaming that she was married to Chandler. Wishing that she had a perfect life.  
  
If she wanted a perfect life, she was going to have to make moves to get one. And that wasn't going to start in a public bathroom.  
  
"Get a grip, Monica!" she scolded. "You love Pete," she insisted to herself. "This thing with Chandler is just a.... phase. Just a phase. You'll get through it. Now march right out there and ask him. Do it. Do it now."  
  
She gave one last glance at her reflection, rubbed her still frantic eyes, and marched out of the room.  
  
*****  
  
Chandler looked down at the table, staring intently at the spotless table cloth.  
  
He didn't feel like he could hold it in any longer. It had been spilled. Phoebe had found out, and now she had, he didn't feel like he could conceal it from anyone.  
  
Not even Monica.  
  
It was almost as though his feelings had been kept in a bottle, stoppered by a cork. Phoebe had pulled out the cork, and now all the liquid was about to spill out.  
  
He heard footsteps behind him, and looked up to see Monica sitting back down again.  
  
"You okay, Mon?" he asked in concern, putting his hand absently on her's over the table. She looked down at it, surprised, but did not recoil. That would only make him suspect more.  
  
"Yeah," she said slowly.  
  
Chandler took her answer as final, and swallowed.  
  
"Mon, I need to ask you-"  
  
"Chandler, I need to ask you-"  
  
They both stopped mid-sentence, smiling at each other.  
  
"You first," said Chandler, sitting foward.  
  
"Okay," said Monica. "Well, you remember that thing I told you the other day?"  
  
Chandler remembered that better than anything, but simply nodded.  
  
"It's to do with that," said Monica, trying to work out how to phrase her words.  
  
Chandler frowned. "What- what is it?" he said, half hopeful, half nervous. He hoped his hammering heart wasn't showing through his chest.  
  
Monica stayed silent for a moment, considering, before she said, "Well, I need you to.... I need you to help me save my marriage."  
  
Chandler stared at her. "Oh," he said quietly.  
  
*****  
  
Help me out here  
  
All my words are falling short,  
  
And there's so much I want to say,  
  
Want to tell you just how good it feels  
  
When you look at me that way,  
  
When you look at me that way.... 


	4. Chapter 4: You Poor Bunny

Everytime  
  
Chapter 4: You Poor Bunny  
  
Dedication: I don't normally do these... but this chapter is dedicated to all my FB buddies who I can't talk to at the moment. I miss you all.  
  
Disclaimer: I dont own them. None of them. Nope. Nada. Although, I've got almost all the series on video. And now I've got enough moeny to have them all! Woot!  
  
A/N: I said in my profile that this was put off for a while, but I suddenly got the image in my mind of what this chapter would exactly be like, and I knew if I didn't write it, I'd lose it. So here it is.  
  
Anywho, thank you for all the nice reviews, and don't forget to do so again. Especially thank you to Jana for all her help, and I hope that she gets better soon. Of course, she probably won't read this for a while, but still....  
  
Oh, and by the way.... chapter 3 has been slighted revised. There are a few extra things, and the shoe scene went a bit differently, so you might wanna re-read that first.  
  
This has NOT been checked over, so if you can point out any mistakes, I'd be grateful.  
  
Don't forget to review! And if in any way you find fault with this chapter, please tell me. But don't be too harsh. Like I've said countless times, I loath bad reviews. Thanks!  
  
*****  
  
"Well, I need you to.... I need you to help me save my marriage."  
  
Chandler stared at her. "Oh," he said quietly.  
  
His mind went blank; he didn't know what to say. He saw her staring at him, waiting for an answer. He heard his lips stumble out the word "Okay", but he hadn't commanded himself to say it; it had been like a reflex. She couldn't know now; now, she couldn't ever know.  
  
She smiled at his words. "Oh, thank you, Chandler," she said. "I knew you'd help me," she said.  
  
Chandler's brain suddenly switched on; but all he could think about was how he couldn't be there right now. She'd want to talk about it, she's want to start. But he needed time- time to get used to the fact that she still wanted Pete.... and that she'd never want him.  
  
"I gotta go to the..." he mumbled, jumping awkwardly out of his chair and walking oddly to the bathroom.  
  
Monica frowned, but shrugged and took a sip of wine.  
  
*****  
  
Phoebe jumped up as she heard the key in the lock, and she put down her glass.  
  
Chandler was surprised to see the lights on, and he looked into the centre of the room. "Phoebe? What are you doing here?" he asked, closing the door behind him and walking over.  
  
Phoebe jumped up out of the barcolounger and took her seat at the counter. "Sit," she commanded, pointing to the barcolounger she'd been sitting on.  
  
Chandler looked surprised, but sat all the same.  
  
"So," said Phoebe, "What happened?"  
  
Chandler stared at her. "Is that why you're here?" he inquired, leaning foward."To see what happened when I went out to dinner with the woman I'm secretly in love with?"  
  
"Uh-huh," said Phoebe, bouncing excitedly.  
  
"You wanna know what happened?" said Chandler, anger coming into his voice. "You wanna know what happened?" he growled.  
  
"Uh-huh," repeated Phoebe, more warily.  
  
"Well, let's see," said Chandler, standing up and starting to walk towards Phoebe. "First, I decide it's too hard, and decide to tell her." Phoebe gasped. "And then, just as I'm about to do that, she tells me, she wants ME to help her get her marriage saved. Then I had to sit through two hours of discussion on how I could help her. So, does that sound like it went well?" he asked, falling back into the barcolounger, and starting to cry.  
  
Phoebe looked upset, and she got off the the stool and walked over. "Oh, you poor bunny," she said, stroking his face in comfort.  
  
He looked up at her in sorrow. "I'm sorry I got angry, Pheebs," he said softly, smiling weakly at her. "I just... just had a rough night," he said, more tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
She smiled. "I know," she said. "But you don't deserve this, Chandler, you don't. You deserve to be with someone who loves you, and who you love, and who knows you exist as her soulmate. Maybe Monica just isn't the one," she said, running her fingers lightly through his hair as she spoke.  
  
Chandler looked up at her with tear-stained eyes. "But Phoebe," he said, "What if she is the one, and I, I just realised too late? If I'd figured this out before Pete came along, then we'd probably be together now...."  
  
Phoebe pulled his face around so they directly faced each other. "Chandler, listen. If she's with someone else, she probably isn't the one. You didn't miss your chance, because you were never meant to have one. If you had been meant to get her before Pete did, you would have. You weren't in love with her then. You are now, but it can't happen. So maybe, she's not the one for you. And it won't help you if you sit around crying over someone who is probably not your's."  
  
Chandler stared at her. "Well, maybe she is the one. And it may be a small chance, but it's still a chance. And I am not going to leave it to die. She feels like my soulmate; doesn't that mean she is?" he said, forcefully.  
  
Phoebe sighed. "Look, whether she is your soulmate or not is not the important thing right now. You need to decide whether you're going to help her with what she asked. Now, you may be in love with her, but are you her friend?"  
  
*****  
  
Chandler rolled over. The sheets were entwined around his body, meaning he could only move about two centimetres before being tugged back. The apartment was silent. Joey and Kathy were obviously at her's tonight. But Chandler still couldn't get to sleep.  
  
What should he do? If he didn't help her, she'd suspect something. But what if that was for the best? She found out, she felt the same, and they were all happy. Well, except for Pete.  
  
But what if she didn't feel the same, and he was shunned out of her life forever? He didn't want that. He didn't think he could handle nevr seeing her again, never seeing her face, her beautiful eyes, her scarlet lips, the lips that he wanted to kiss more than any before...  
  
So he couldn't tell her. Not now. And if he didn't help her, she'd find out somehow. So he had to help her.  
  
He'd help her be happy with Pete. While he stood, crying inside, watching them together.  
  
*****  
  
He woke to find himself in a strange room. It was light; the sun shone in throught the windows. He looked down at himself he was wearing the smartest tux he'd ever worn in his life.  
  
"What the-" he said.  
  
Ross poked his head through the door. "Come on, man," he said. "Everyone's waiting."  
  
Ross disappeared. Chandler looked around. It looked like a dressing room. He stepped outside and saw Ross turning a corner. Deciding that was the right way, Chandler followed.  
  
He followed him through the hallways, looking at all the numbers on the doors. Where was he? He heard Ross quicken his pase and followed suit, not having time to look at the doors any more.  
  
They made their way down a flight of stairs, and Chandler started to hear a large crowd talking. Turning another corner, Chandler saw his mother and father, both dressed in sparkling dresses, talking to Ross.  
  
"There he is," said Ross, and Chandler's parents turned.  
  
"Mom?" said Chandler, looked bewildered. "Dad? What- what are you both doing here?" he said.  
  
Nora Bing laughed. "You thought we'd miss this, honey? You are funny," she said. "Come on, we're going in," she said, latching her arm onto Chandler's, as his father did the same on the other side.  
  
Ross leaned into Chandler. "See you in a minute, man," he said, as he, Rachel and Phoebe set off into the hall, arms linked.  
  
Chandler looked at his mother. "What's going on?" he asked cluelessly.  
  
Nora laughed again, but didn't reply. "Come on," she said, and the three of them walked into the hall together.  
  
Chandler looked around. On the right, he could see memebers of his own family, cousins, uncles, his grandfather.... and on the left, were people he didn't recognise, or at least not until he got to the front, where he saw Ross and Monica's aunt and uncle sitting there.  
  
"Huh?" he said to himself, but he looked away from them when the music started to play. Everyone turned to the back of the hall, where Chandler himself had come in. Three people came in; Jack Geller on the left, Judy Geller on the right, and in the centre was a woman more beautiful than he had ever seen.  
  
"Monica," he breathed.  
  
She smiled as she progressed down the aisle, her veil rippling gently in the wind that came through the window. She looked at Chandler, and her smile widened.  
  
They reached the end of the aisle, and Monica kissed both of her parents on the cheek and they sat down on the right. Monica stepped up onto the platform, and smiled again at Chandler. He smiled back.  
  
"Ladies and gentleman," said Joey, making Chandler look around. "We are gathered here today....."  
  
*****  
  
"...I now pronounce you man and wife," Joey finished. "You may now kiss the bride," he said smiling, stepping away slightly.  
  
Monica smiled at Chandler, and their lips neared. Chandler couldn't believe this was happening. He was about to get everything he'd ever wanted...  
  
Their lips grazed each other at first; then the kiss deepened, and Chandler moved his lips rythmically over her's, taking in the sweet taste he'd longed for. Everyone in the room started clapping, and they broke apart.  
  
"I love you, Chandler," said Monica, smiling.  
  
Chandler smiled back. "And I love yo-"  
  
*****  
  
He sat suddenly up in his bed, sweat pouring down his face.  
  
The images in his mind had been so vivid... he'd felt his lips on Monica's... he had really been there, kissing her, finally getting everything he'd always wanted.....  
  
But it wasn't real. It had all been a dream. Just a dream. 


	5. Chapter 5: You Go There, You're Gone For...

Everytime  
  
Chapter Five: You Go There, You're Gone Forever  
  
Disclaimer: They're mine. No, really.  
  
A/N: Not much to say.... worried about this chapter, big time. So review and either confirm what I think (that this story sucks), or cheer me up. Either way, I'll love you.  
  
Chapter title taken from the Enya song Anywhere Is. I adore Enya. I was listening to the song as I wrote this. I advise you to listen to it too.  
  
And I guess I should take this opportunity to advertise the new TV Boards: &. You can talk aboutall your favourite TV shows there, and since it's new, it's ready for any members. And I'm a mod! My username over there is Chandler. I hope to see you over there!  
  
Oh, and sorry to Becca, Ariel, Monnie and all the rest of you crazy people, but randomness is impossible to find for me today. o__O Maybe next week.  
  
*****  
  
Chandler rolled over in bed and hit the alarm clock hard with his right hand. He struggled to open his eyes. Through the blur, he saw that the clock read "09:00".  
  
"Ohh.." he groaned, sitting up and pulling his eyelids up in an attempt to get them open faster. The light flooded in and his eyes couldn't help but reflex against it, and his eyes closed. Giving up for now, he let his body loosen and he fell back onto the bed.  
  
Today was the first day he and Monica were due to.... start. Everytime Chandler thought about it, he got this sick feeling in his stomach. Picturing Monica happy with Pete was the equivalent of picturing himself in the bowels of hell.  
  
Needless to say, Chander did not want to leave his bed.  
  
Chandler kept his eyes closed and thought about the idea of staying in his bed forever. He'd never have to move, it was comfortable, he'd never have to see Pete again, and he wouldn't be put through the torture of trying to repair the exact relationship he wanted destroyed.  
  
But if he stayed in bed forever, he'd never see Monica again. He'd see her in his dreams, he always did, but he'd never see her smile, her hair flowing over her shoulders, her skin glowing softly in the moonlight of an evening.... in his dreams, she was always beautiful, but in real life, she was utter perfection.  
  
He forced his body upwards, groaning as he sat up, and unfolded the sheets on the bed. He swung his legs off tyhe bed and walked over toa table in the corner.  
  
He sat down on the chair which had been tucked under the desk, and opened the drawer at the side of him. Slowly, he eased out a small box covered in blue felt. He ran his fingers over the felt, feeling it's delicate softness. It reminded him of Monica's skin, and he closed his eyes as he imagined just sitting with her on a normal day, simply stroking her warm skin.  
  
He lifted the lid from the box, and took out a bundle of the photos that were in there, bound together with a piece of string. He saw that they were his pictures of the whole gang, and he lay them aside, taking out the next bundle, which showed him as a child and teenager. His flock of seagulls haircut on the top one made him laugh as he remembered how stupid he had looked. He laid them aside as well, and took out the next bundle.  
  
These were the ones.  
  
He undid the piece of string and looked at the top photograph. There he was, sitting on the couch in the coffeehouse, and next to him sat Monica, snuggled up against his chest. Next to them, Rachel sat smiling at them, and Joey stood behind, talking to Phoebe. Monica's eyes were on the camera, but Chandler's were on her, watching her. He wasn't in love with her then. He just... he didn't know. The way she moved was so fascinating, the way her hair rippled in the wind so bewitching....  
  
He put the first photo aside and took the next one from the pile.  
  
This one was in Monica's old apartment, now where Rachel and Ross lived together. Monica was standing in the kitchen, stirring something stood on the cooker, and Chandler was tasting it with a spoon, and smiling at her. It wasn't a particulary special or unusual moment, but it showed Chandler how he and Monica enjoyed doing everyday things together. She made every moment wonderful.  
  
And he didn't want to loose that.  
  
*****  
  
Monica stepped slowly up the steps towards the restaurant door, her heels clacking loudly against the concrete. She pulled the door open, thanked the doorman who held it for her, and walked into the restaurant.  
  
"May I take your coat?" asked a waiter stood just inside the entrance. Monica nodded and handed her coat over. She looked around for Chandler, and saw him at a table in the corner, looking down and muttering to himself.  
  
"Chandler!" she shouted, and he looked up, a smile creeping onto his face.  
  
"Hey, Mon," he said. Monica thought he looked oddly sad, but she didn't say anything.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," she said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. "Have you been here long?"  
  
"No," dismissed Chandler. "But I have to get going soon, my boss called and said there's some important meeting that EVERYONE has to be at. So I can only stay like ten minutes."  
  
Monica sighed. "Oh," she said. "Well, we've a lot to do in ten minutes, then..."  
  
"Yeah," mumbled Chandler.  
  
Monica looked at him. "So, when does this meeting finish? You can still come over and help, right?"  
  
Chandler wished he could have lied to her. He wished he could have said no, said that the meeting was going to last well into the evening, later than she needed.  
  
But looking at her face, staring deep into her eyes.... he knew he couldn't do it. She made him totally honest. If she had asked him if he was in love with her, he'd have told her. She was impossible to lie to.  
  
"Yes," he said in resignment. "I'll be there. What are you going to do tonight, anyway?"  
  
Monica smiled. "Well, Pete's out late- he still on this big deal thing-"  
  
Chandler interrupted. "Yeah, about that.... has he told you anything more?" he asked, leaning foward.  
  
Monica groaned. "No, and he said he wouldn't until it's all final, and that won't be for like two weeks, so I'm left wondering." She took a sip of water. "Anyway, I was going to cook him this big dinner, and I need you to help me look the place look romantic."  
  
Chandler looked surprised. "Me? I haven't had a date in months!"  
  
Monica smiled. "No, but you are romantic. Remember you made that lovely meal for Janice, before she went back to Gary? That was beautiful, Chandler. Hell, I'd have fallen for that!" she laughed.  
  
Chandler smiled, his heart beginning to thump loudly. "Okay, I'll do it then. But I've got to go right now..." he said, standing up rather hurriedly.  
  
Monica stood up too. "Okay," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "I'll see you later."  
  
Chandler blushed uncontrollably and turned away, walking quickly out of the restaurant, almost forgetting to pick up his coat.  
  
*****  
  
Chandler took a deep breath and pressed the buzzer. As he waited for the door to be answered, he looked up at the huge house she lived in. Being married to Pete certainly gave her the best. And now he was going to help her give him the perfect relationship.  
  
His heart felt like it was being torn apart and displayed in front of him. How could he watch them be happy together again? When she had told him she wasn't happy, his heart had taken a giant leap of hope. But now, it was like she was trampling over his heart, although without knowing it.  
  
He had to help her. Above all, he wanted her to be happy, and if that meant him being heartbroken....  
  
So be it.  
  
The door opened, and the butler bowed to him and stepped aside. Chandler thanked him quietly, then progressed into the lounge, where Monica usually met him. But the room was empty.  
  
"Mon?" he called out, knowing it was probably useless given the size of the house he was in.  
  
"Chandler?" he heard her call faintly back.  
  
Chandler looked around. "Where are you?" he called, louder.  
  
"In the kitchen," she shouted back.  
  
Chandler went back through the lounge door, and walked down the long corridor to the kitchen, which lay at the other end of the house. As he neared the room, the scent of food met his nose, but he couldn't put his name on it.  
  
He entered the kitchen, and was immediatly taken aback by all the utensils lying around on the worktops. "Wow," he said, making Monica look around. "Sure need a lot of stuff to make dinner, huh?" he smiled, although a hint of the bitterness he was feeling entered his voice.  
  
Monica turned away to stir something again. "Well, I have to make it special, or Pete won't like it. Oh, but there is something I need to ask you...." she said, leaning over to a bowl and tipping the contents into a saucepan while she spoke. "It's upstairs... I'll get the maid to hold this stuff for a few minutes, and you go upstairs and wait. I'll be up in a sec, okay?"  
  
Chandler nodded, although her back was already turned, and set off up the staircase to Monica's bedroom.  
  
When he got there, he flumped in relief down on the bed, starting to feel sick as the time when Monica and Pete would begin to be happy again approached.  
  
*****  
  
It took Monica a long time to get upstairs.  
  
"Sorry," she said, as she entered. "I had to show Samantha what to do," she mumbled, walking into her huge closet and starting to search for something. "She's not a very good cook. I don't think I can leave her very long, to be honest, so I'll be quick." She walked out of the closet, holding two things behind her back and smiling.  
  
Chandler sat on the edge of the bed. "Okay, what is it?" he asked, smiling back.  
  
"Which one of these do you think Pete would like best?" she questioned, and held out two, very revealing, nightgowns.  
  
Chandler's eyes just stared at them. His mind had immediatly jumped to picturing her wearing them, and now there was two versions of her swimming around in front of him, each wearing one of them. He just gawped at her.  
  
"Chandler?" said Monica, waving her hand in front of his face.  
  
Chandler looked up at her face. "Huh?" he said cluelessly.  
  
Monica sighed. "Which one?"  
  
Chandler stared. "Er....."  
  
"You know what, I'll put them on for you, then you can make a proper decision," said Monica turning away, leaving Chandler to breathe deeply and almost faint from overheating. He felt so hot, he was surprised Monica hadn't noticed yet.  
  
She came out wearing the first one, a red lace one which hugged tightly to her body, accented her breasts perfectly, and rather showed off the top half of her body.  
  
"Well?" she asked, standing before a dumbfounded Chandler. "What do you think?"  
  
Chandler tried to speak, but the words didn't reach his lips, and he simply uttered "Flen-nen."  
  
Monica grinned. "That good, huh? Well, I guess my problem is solved. Thanks, Chandler," she said, walking back into the closet to change back.  
  
Chandler groaned and let himself fall back onto the bed. 


	6. Chapter 6: Illuminated

Everytime  
  
Chapter Six: Illuminated  
  
Disclaimer: Care to venture a guess? That's right. I own none of them. Yet.  
  
A/N: Thanks to all the kind reviews, I'm glad you're all still enjoying it. Special thanks to Monnie for her excellent proofing skills- girl, you rock my world. Hee. And thanks to my newest friend Michey, if she reads. Yes, I know Michey now! Woot for me!  
  
See, I can manage a short A/N. Oops, making it longer..... On with the story. Sorry for it's shortness.  
  
*****  
  
Monica lifted the curtain up and peeked underneath, sighing when she saw nothing.  
  
"Where is he?" she asked herself out loud, leaving Chandler confused as to whether he should answer or not.  
  
"Erm..." he said slowly, trailing off when Monica walked out of the room.  
  
He groaned as he got up, and followed her down the hall, leaving the candlelit room behind him, all the aromatic food sitting, and getting colder, upon the table.  
  
Monica slammed the front door in annoyance, after looking out of it for Pete. "Ugh!" she moaned, glaring through the door. "Where is he?" she said again, storming back into the dining room.  
  
Chandler dutifully followed, still bewitched by the way Monica moved as she walked, her dress hugging her body tightly. It was the same one she had worn a few nights ago, when Chandler had almost revealed his secret, but when she had told him she need his help.  
  
It looked like Pete was messing it all up anyway, though.  
  
Monica sat down angrily in the chair by her plate, and ran her fork over the top of it, as if her daring to eat the food would bring Pete back. Chandler sat down next to her, at an empty place.  
  
Monica spoke. "Well-" she started, but was interrupted by the phone beginning to ring. "I'd better get that," she said, walking into the hall and grabbing the phone.  
  
"Hello?" Chandler heard Monica say. "Pete!" she exclaimed, and Chandler sighed. "Where are you? No, it is not okay! I've had a special dinner ready for 10 minutes, because you said you'd be home half an hour ago! Are you coming back or not?" she asked, anger rising. "Well, you know what, Pete? If you're not coming back tonight, don't bother coming back at all!" Chandler sat up at that, his eyes widening. "You said you'd be home tonight. You promised me. I don't care if it's that big of a deal! You made me a promise, and I expect you to keep it! Well, I'm just going to eat the food myself. Pete- no, I- look, just piss off, okay? I don't want to talk to you." She slammed the phone down and walked back into the living room. "Pete's not coming," she said, making Chandler raise an eyebrow in mock surprise.  
  
"I never would have guessed," he said sarcastically. He looked at her downcast expression. "What are you going to do then?" he asked, as she sat down again.  
  
She looked at him. "Well, there's no point in food going to waste... would you stay and eat with me?" she asked.  
  
Chandler laughed. "M-me?" he said. "Why would you want me to stay? It's supposed to be a romantic night between... between you and Pete. Remember, you showed me the - the dress?" he said, remembering the moment.  
  
She frowned slightly. "So? He's not coming, and I am NOT wasting all this food when there's two of us already here... come on, stay..." she pled, smiling at him.  
  
He caved. Completely and utterly. The cave collapsed in one second. "Okay," he said, smiling back. He moved to the seat on Monica's other side, where the food meant for Pete lay.  
  
Monica got up and lit the candle by the windowsill. It was the last one to be lit. The room glowed romantically.  
  
Chandler swallowed. This was going to be extremely difficult for him. He felt his cheeks redden as Monica's knee grazed his as she sat back down.  
  
She smiled at him, her face illuminated in the candlelight. Chandler thought she truly had never looked more beautiful.  
  
But he kept it to himself.  
  
*****  
  
"You what?" sputtered Monica, spitting out the ice cream that had been in her mouth into the dish. "You ate a whole chocolate cake to yourself? You're an even bigger pig than I was!" she laughed, smiling warmly at him.  
  
Chandler smiled. "Hey, I left.... crumbs," he said. "But you can hardly talk- I've seen you eating ding-dongs without taking the tin foil off!"  
  
Monica gasped. "What? Who showed you that?" she asked. Then she realised. "It was Ross, wasn't it? Oh, he is dead!" she growled, but failed to suppress a smile. "You finishing that ice cream?"  
  
Chandler looked down. "Yeah, I'm just... Monica!" he groaned, grinning.  
  
Monica smiled. The phone began to ring.  
  
"I better get that," Monica said, and left the room slowly, looking back and smiling.  
  
"Hello?" she said. "Pete!- I said I didn't want- no, I don't care! No- goodbye!" she shouted down the earpiece, and slammed the phone down angrily.  
  
She stormed back into the room, and sat back down, making gasping noises.  
  
Her hair covered her face. As gently as possible, Chandler brushed it back behind her ear, and looked at her face. The still candlelight illuminated the tears on her cheeks. Chandler slowly touched her face with his fingers, lightly grazing her skin, wiping the tears away one by one.  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. His fingers froze as he looked back into her eyes. Everything was silent, just for those few seconds as they sat frozen, staring at each other. No birds moved in the trees. No cars breezed past on the road at the end of the drive. No clocks chimed. It was like a montage, a bewitching one.  
  
Monica breathed in, and she felt Chandler's soft breath on her face. Her eyes remained on her face, and she didn't even realise her face was moving forward slowly.  
  
She touched her lips to his, feeling their softness immediately. She closed her eyes as her lips grazed his. He didn't move.  
  
Her tongue brushed his lips, and suddenly she felt his tongue move over her's, and his lips starting to press against her's with increased urgency.  
  
She felt his hands run over her back as she pressed harder against his lips. He stood up slowly, bringing her with him. He moved slightly, and she felt herself up against the table. Their midriffs touched, and stayed together. She ran her hands through his hair, her eyes still closed.  
  
Suddenly, he broke away. She opened his eyes, and saw him looking shocked. He looked at her.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, and ran out of the room, slamming the front door behind him.  
  
*****  
  
Monica ran into the gardens, the gravel crunching beneath her feet. She saw the gravel thrown up further down the path, and saw Chandler's feet disappearing up the hill. She ran after him, and felt tears beginning to run down her cheeks again.  
  
She reached the end of the pathway, and, forgetting that the grass was soaking wet, followed him upwards. As she neared the top, she saw him looking down at her, frozen at the top. She stopped.  
  
They looked at each other. Her eyes glinted in the soft moonlight. An owl hooted from a nearby tree.  
  
She breathed deeply, and suddenly, he came flying down the hill towards her, his jacket coming free and falling gently to the ground. No sooner had he reached her, their lips were together again, their bodies close, their eyes closed. 


	7. Chapter 7: Like She Belonged

Everytime  
  
Chapter Seven: Like She Belonged....  
  
Disclaimer: They're mine. All mine. *hears siren* Wait... I lied! They're not mine. Boohoo.  
  
A/N: I've never been so great at these crazy author's notes. I guess I'll just have to improvise. *clears throat* Ahahahahaeemmmm... how much wood could a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?  
  
.... does anyone even care?- Ala Monnie.  
  
Review, if you want me to continue. For some reason, I think of the chapters of this fic in threes, so it will be either 9 chapters, or 12, depending on what I decide to do. But I won't continue at all if no one likes it. I know I sound negative, but reviews are VERY helpful for telling me people like it. There are also plently of other ways to talk to me- check my profile.  
  
My profile's rather boring. All it has is contact stuff and people's names. Why do people like seeing their names in other people's profiles? Is it because we're all attention seeking souls? I know I am. And that's why..... I have bought everyone a candy bar! No, only kidding. These are all for me. Hee.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler and Monica slowly backed down the hill, still pressing their lips together in passionate kisses. Chandler bit at her lip hungrily; he had dreamt of this moment for so long, and now it was here, it was even more amazing than he had dreamed it would be.  
  
Monica seemed to have lost all rational thought.... she knew in the back of her mind she shouldn't be doing this, but her heart was directing her differently, and she kissed back just as hungrily, creating several large rips as she tore at his shirt.  
  
She heard the gravel crunch beneath their feet, and knew they had reached the pathway.  
  
He pushed her backwards, his kisses burning her mouth, his tongue teasing at hers as it moved rhythmically against hers.  
  
He moved his hands from her back, drifting downwards, caressing the soft skin at her midriff, gently running his fingers down her spine. She shivered, so he apologised without words, kissing her deeply once again, teasing her by slowly pulling his lips away, then replacing them immediately, unable to stop kissing her for more than a second.  
  
Monica felt his hands move onto her ass as a leaf on one of the potted plants brushed her midriff, reminding her of Chandler's roaming hands. As he moved his kisses down to her neck, she let out a ragged breath, feeling the cold night air on her cheeks.  
  
Ripping off the last of the buttons, his shirt fell open as she pulled at it, giving her access to his bare skin. He moaned softly in her ear as she caressed him, his lips finding their way back to hers.  
  
Opening his eyes for a brief moment, Chandler noticed they were nearing the house, and as he steered Monica around to the front, he continued to kiss her deeply, his hands exploring her velvet skin. At the slight change in direction, she opened her eyes; no words were spoken as they stared at each other. No words were needed.  
  
Chandler backed into the doorway, taking one hand off Monica for a moment so he could open the door. They went backwards into the hallway, still kissing furiously.  
  
The warmth of the inside stung Monica's cheeks, sating the cold as she slipped her hands beneath Chandler's collar, slowly pushing the ruined shirt he wore off his shoulders, down his arms, and to the floor.  
  
As he pushed her against the wall, Monica's hands grasped at his back, fingers raking against supple skin, setting him on fire. Pulled by a power beyond his control, he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, eliciting a giggle from her in response. He smiled against her shoulder.  
  
Gentle biting and soft kisses created the need in her to grow. Every part of her screamed for him to quench her heart's desire.  
  
The phone rang. Monica ignored it, willing it to go away, but it kept on with its incessant tones. She dropped her hands from Chandler's back, signalling to him that she'd have to get it. He kissed her once more, before releasing his tight hold on her. Picking his shirt up from the floor, he examined it, noticing the large holes in it, torn away by Monica's passionate fingers. He held it to his chest. Just the fact that her hands had been running all over it was enough for him to savour it.  
  
"Hello?" said Monica wearily. "Oh, hi Rach. What? No, Pete's not here. No, he... had some business. Am I alone?" She looked at Chandler. "Yes." She suddenly frowned. "What? No, no, you don't need to come down here. No, I'm fine.... Rach? Rach?" She put the phone down.  
  
"Rachel's coming," she sighed, stating the obvious.  
  
Chandler smiled sarcastically. "I kinda guessed." He looked down at himself. "So what am I gonna do? I can't stay here. For one, you said you were alone, and two, this," he said, holding up his ruined shirt.  
  
Monica smiled guiltily. "Oh, sorry about that. Well, you could borrow one of Pete's shirts..."  
  
Chandler frowned. "Won't he notice? And besides, no offence, but he's a little... bigger than I am."  
  
"Well, I guess you'll have to hide as long as she's here. Hide in the bathroom off my room, she won't go in there." She smiled. "I'll try and get rid of her."  
  
Chandler looked down. "So we're not finished?"  
  
She smiled slyly, gliding over to him. "Oh, far from it, my friend," she said, running her fingers softly across his still exposed skin.  
  
He smiled, but his heart was beating fast inside. Monica was married. Married. And he wasn't sure whether this was right.  
  
Although his heart wanted it so much.  
  
*~*~*  
  
As Monica waited for Rachel to arrive, she watched Chandler run upstairs, and finally, she took a moment to think through what she was doing.  
  
Ever since the moment when they had run into each other, Monica had seen Chandler in a totally different light. At first it had disturbed her, making conversation difficult while in his presence, but she quickly learned how to hide it, locking the emotions away in her mind, while she acted normally. She never forgot it, and when she was alone, it was the first thing on her mind, but she had managed to be able to be with Chandler without it affecting her ability to talk. She guessed it was because her attraction to Chandler wasn't as strong as her desire to be around him.  
  
It was strange how such a little thing had started something so big. All she had done was drop her shopping. But now, she was dropping a bombshell onto her life.  
  
But would the result be devastation, or blossoming flowers?  
  
She thought about Chandler, hiding upstairs.... what did he feel? He had kissed her. He had initiated it. But why had he run out afterwards? And what had possessed him to do it in the first place?  
  
She didn't know. But she wanted to know.  
  
But when did she want to know?  
  
She kept repeating the questions over and over in her mind. Trying to delay herself from finding the answers.  
  
Everything was so much easier when they had been kissing. There had been no problems, no qualms... they had just been together. She had felt so at ease then... she had felt like she fitted. Like she belonged.  
  
Like she belonged.....  
  
Her thoughts fell away as the doorbell rang, almost though the bell was a releasing button to her mind. She opened it, smiling warmly as Rachel entered.  
  
"Hey Mon," said Rachel quietly. "How are you?"  
  
Monica frowned. "Rachel, you don't need to be sympathetic, I couldn't care less that Pete didn't turn up!"  
  
Rachel looked at her suspiciously. "But earlier you were all upset that you and Pete don't have a special enough relationship..."  
  
Monica shifted her weight onto her other foot. "Well, I had a revelation. Pete didn't turn up, so I decided it's not worth it anymore. He can do his own thing."  
  
Rachel looked surprised. "Are you sure?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," said Monica, but her face became confused, and she lowered herself into a chair. "I think so..." she said.  
  
Rachel knelt down next to her. "Monica, you don't have to lie to me," she said gently.  
  
Monica put her head in her hands. "It's just... I don't know. Pete is my husband. I married him. And we're supposed to be bonded for life...."  
  
"Well, if you don't feel that way anymore, then you can't live a lie," said Rachel.  
  
Monica looked at her. "I don't know how I feel anymore," she said honestly. "I've got all these conflicting emotions going round in my head... and I'm not sure which are the right ones to follow."  
  
Rachel smiled knowingly. "I think you need to think things over," she said, standing up. "I guess I'll leave you to do that," she said. "I'll let myself out. Bye."  
  
Monica gave a weak wave as Rachel left, and put her head in her hands.  
  
She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to feel.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chandler closed the bathroom door quietly and put his ruined shirt on the edge of the bath. He shivered, feeling a breeze run over him. He looked around, and saw that the window was ajar. He reached over and shut it.  
  
He fumbled in his pants pocket for his cell phone, flipping it open and quickly dialling a number.  
  
"Phoebe?" he said.  
  
"Hi!" she exclaimed. "Where are you? You were supposed to meet me for dinner an hour ago!"  
  
Chandler looked around. "At Monica's."  
  
"Isn't she with Pete?" asked Phoebe, sounding interested.  
  
"He didn't show. Look, Phoebe, there's something...."  
  
Phoebe interrupted him. "He didn't? Aww, is Monica alright?"  
  
Chandler waved his hand in frustration. "I think so... look, Phoebe-"  
  
"But she wanted this night to be special... she told me, her night's ambition was to.... what was it... oh, to "rip his shirt to pieces passionately.""  
  
Chandler laughed, looking at his shirt. "Well, she certainly did that..."  
  
"What do you mean?" said a confused Phoebe.  
  
"We.... we kissed, and it kinda went a little bit... passionate," said Chandler slowly, waiting nervously for Phoebe's reaction.  
  
Phoebe gasped. "What? You kissed her? What happened?"  
  
Chandler breathed in. "Well, she was all crying because of Pete, and it just.... happened. Then I ran out, because... well, because I knew it was wrong. She's married. I shouldn't have acted on my feelings. They don't matter."  
  
Phoebe sighed. "Chandler, they do matter. You acted on your feelings because you had to. Because you found them impossible to control. It was going to happen sooner or later. Don't feel guilty." She coughed lightly before continuing. "So, what happened next?"  
  
Chandler thought back, his memory clear. "I ran outside. I don't know why, but I went up the path behind the house, and up the hill.... I could have gone anywhere...." He sat down on the edge of the bath. "Then I saw her. She was running after me. And I just knew.... I knew that she wasn't mad. And I knew... I knew what she wanted."  
  
"So then what?" breathed Phoebe.  
  
Chandler swallowed. "Then I- I ran down the hill, and I kissed her."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"We kissed. For like five minutes, we were backing down the path, towards the house.... and once we got into the house... well, do you really wanna know?"  
  
"Yes!" squealed Phoebe.  
  
Chandler laughed. "Well, let's just say I'm holding my ripped shirt in her bathroom."  
  
"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Phoebe squealed. "Well, where is she now?"  
  
"Downstairs, Rachel came over. I couldn't exactly greet her like this, could I?"  
  
"So what are you gonna do now?" asked Phoebe.  
  
Chandler sighed. "I don't know.... Phoebe, she's married. Married. I don't think this is right."  
  
"But Chandler, she's obviously not happy with him, is she? What if... what if she's not supposed to be with him? What if she's supposed to be with you? You love her, Chandler. I know that, you know that.... but do you want Monica to know that?"  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica looked up, tears surrounding her eyes, as Chandler entered the room, holding his ripped shirt close to his chest. She thought he looked a little like a little child clutching a teddy bear. She smiled.  
  
"Hey, Chandler," she said, looking down.  
  
He saw her tears and his face immediately turned to concern. "Mon, what's the matter?" he said, kneeling down beside her.  
  
She looked at him, smiling gently, brushing the side of his face. "I don't know..." she said slowly."I don't know what to do anymore."  
  
Chandler took her hand. "You wanna talk about it?" he asked, rubbing her hand with his in a circular motion.  
  
"I don't know that either," she said honestly.  
  
Chandler paused before asking his next question. "Is it.... about us? About what happened?"  
  
She looked at him for a moment, and then nodded.  
  
He looked down. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to-"  
  
She put a finger to his lips. "Don't be sorry," she said. "I was there too."  
  
He looked down as her finger receded. "But still-"  
  
She repeated her motion, silencing him. "I wanted it as much as you. Maybe more."  
  
Chandler shook his head. "I doubt that," he said, smiling. He took a deep breath. "Monica-"  
  
She interrupted again, making his beating heart jump wildly as his courage died again, almost as quickly as it had come.  
  
"Chandler, I.... I do have feelings for you, but I- I'm married. And I just don't think it's right."  
  
He nodded, and smiled. "I know," he whispered. "But can I just..." he said, trailing off intentionally, before capturing Monica's lips in a deep, passionate kiss. She kissed him back, thinking it would be the last they ever had.  
  
As they kissed, Chandler took Monica's right hand, which was still holding her left, and held them tightly, still pressing his lips to hers. Slowly, he released both her hands and her mouth at the same time, and stood up, turning away.  
  
When he turned to give a wave of goodbye, she saw that a tear was rolling down his cheek.  
  
And he saw the same in her. 


	8. Chapter 8: Discovery

Everytime  
  
Chapter Eight: Discovery  
  
Disclaimer: Boo-hoo. Don't make me say it.....  
  
A/N: Uh-hum. I have no idea what to write. I bet no one reads these things anyway. So, for future reference, if you see something in BIG BLOCK CAPITALS here, then I want/need you to READ IT. 'Kay? Thanks.  
  
Next chapter VERY SOON, btw.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Joey threw up his hands against the rays of sun as he exited his bedroom, Kathy giving his neck nibbling kisses. He turned and gave her a kiss in return, then whispered in her ear. She giggled, and ran off to the bathroom, giving him a smile before she closed the door behind her.  
  
Joey walked into the kitchen and grabbed a packet of cereal from the cupboard. He dug into it and started to eat it the flakes as he walked around the room, waiting for the sound of the shower to start up.  
  
As he walked nearer Chandler's bedroom, he heard small sobs coming, short but deep, and he frowned.  
  
He pushed the door open and looked around. It was dark; the blinds were drawn. Chandler lay covered on the bed, his face inward toward the pillow.  
  
"Chandler?" said Joey tentatively.  
  
A loud grunt was his answer, but he moved nearer anyway and shook Chandler's shoulder.  
  
"Chandler? Are you- are you okay buddy?"  
  
Chandler sniffed. "No," he said in a muffled voice.  
  
Joey perched himself on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong?"  
  
Chandler finally turned his head so he could speak properly. "You wouldn't understand, Joey," he said sadly, his face tear-stained, and his eyes glistening with fresh tear drops.  
  
Joey frowned. "Why wouldn't I? Why? Because I'm too stupid or something?" he said bitterly. "Everyone says that," he said, standing up and turning away.  
  
Chandler sat up and grabbed his arm. "No, Joey," he said. "It's not because you're stupid. But you've- you've never been in love...."  
  
Joey's eyes widened. "You're in love?" he said, surprised. "But Chandler...you don't even have a girlfriend!"  
  
Chandler stared at him. "So? You don't have to have a girlfriend to be in love. I mean, she's married, and I'm still in love with her-"  
  
"What?!" shouted Joey. "She's married? Who exactly are we talking about here?" he asked, a look of concentration appearing as he tried to figure it out. His eyes widened yet further. "Monica?!" he yelled, and there came a crash from somewhere in the apartment. "You're in love with Monica?!"  
  
"Ow!" yelled Kathy. "Joey!"  
  
Joey gulped. "Oops," he said. "I'll be right back. We are NOT finished here, man," he said, pointing his finger at Chandler.  
  
Chandler sighed and fell back onto the bed.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica groaned as she woke up, and stretched out her arm. "Chandler, why didn't you wake me up?" she said absently, still half asleep.  
  
It took about a minute for her words to register in her brain.  
  
She sat up sharply, staring at her reflection in the large mirror at the end of the bed. "What did I just say?" she asked herself.  
  
Her words taunted her, swimming around her head, just out of reach. 'Chandler....'  
  
"Chandler," she whispered to the air, and looked down at her bedspread. Beneath where she had been lying, Chandler's ruined shirt lay. She picked it up lightly, and smelt it. It smelt just like him. Just like he had last night. It was the best scent in the world.  
  
Suddenly, the image of Pete came into her mind, and guilt washed over her. She threw the shirt as hard as she could across the room, trying to get Chandler out of her head.  
  
It was wrong. She was married to Pete. She loved Pete.  
  
But Chandler... she closed her eyes as she imagined herself back last night, with him pushing her up against the wall, his hands running all over her....  
  
She snapped her eyes open, staring at her reflection.  
  
"Well," she said to herself. "It's all up to you. What are you gonna do?"  
  
*~*~*  
  
Phoebe stooped at the coffeehouse window before she entered. An annoyed looking Chandler was leaning away from a very talkative Joey, and Kathy sat lazily in a chair, apparently not listening, since her eyes were closed. Phoebe pushed open the door and moved quickly to the couch, Joey's words coming soon into earshot.  
  
"... Chandler, why won't you tell me? When was it?"  
  
"When was what?" asked Phoebe absently, signalling to a waitress for a coffee.  
  
Joey looked around. "When Chandler fell in love with Monica?"  
  
Phoebe stared. "You know?" she said incredulously. "Chandler, I thought you weren't going to tell him!"  
  
Joey's eyes widened again. "What?!" he yelled, making Kathy jump. "You know?" he said, pointing at Phoebe.  
  
She lowered his finger slowly, staring him out. "Yes. For quite a while, now, actually," she answered coolly, amused at Joey's expression.  
  
Joey stared at Chandler. "Why would you tell Pheebs- and not me?" he asked, sounding rather hurt.  
  
Chandler gulped, giving Phoebe a sarcastic look before answering. "Look, Joey... you're still my best friend.... I just... you don't seem to be able to keep secrets very well."  
  
Joey glared. "I can keep secrets, man!" he said. "I didn't tell anyone about- about your third nipple..." he said tentatively, pointing at its rough area "You coulda told me," he said.  
  
Chandler smiled. "I'm sorry, Joe."  
  
Phoebe interjected. "Joey, he didn't tell me," she said, smiling.  
  
Joey looked at her. "Of course he did. How else would you know?"  
  
"I figured it out. I'm smarter than I look, y'know," she said, making everyone smile.  
  
Joey grinned. "So, what happened last night?" he asked eagerly.  
  
Chandler looked at him. "Noth-"  
  
"They kissed, she ripped his shirt to pieces, and he ended up in her bathroom!" squealed Phoebe, interrupting Chandler.  
  
"Phoebe!" he groaned, leaning back on the couch in frustration, as Joey and Kathy gasped.  
  
"What?!" said Joey excitedly. "Really?"  
  
"What about Pete?" asked Kathy simply.  
  
And everyone went quiet.  
  
"What?" said Kathy.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Now here you go again,  
  
You say you want your freedom  
  
Well, who am I to keep you down  
  
It's only right that you should play the way you feel it,  
  
But listen carefully to the sound  
  
Of your loneliness  
  
Like a heartbeat drives you mad  
  
In the stillness of remembering what you had  
  
And what you lost...."  
  
Chandler sighed as music floated out of the car rolling along the road beside him, the traffic jam causing it to somehow move at the same speed as Chandler. He tried to ignore the words, but they washed over him, sticking in his mind. They reminded him of everything.  
  
He had to let her go. She wasn't his. She never was, never could be, and never would be.  
  
He knew she was conflicted. And that made him slightly happy, knowing that she did consider him an option in her life. And if she picked that option- well, he couldn't deny he hoped she would. He'd thought about every day for as long as he could remember.  
  
But she was married, and both she and Chandler knew that that was more important.  
  
He kicked his feet against the sidewalk, not caring that he was scuffing his polished shoes, covering them with the dirt that lay like an invisible blanket on the concrete.  
  
The lights at the end of the street changed to green, and the cars moved off, music still floating from the car beside Chandler. He moved away from the street, feeling a blast of air whipped up by the cars and trucks that passed in the next minute.  
  
He turned the street corner and looked up, the subway finally coming into sight. He walked up to the crossing and pressed the button. It took a while for the lights to change, and when they did, Chandler made his way across slowly, staring melancholy down at the ground.  
  
A horn beeped. Chandler looked up. An angry looking driver motioned for him to get out of the way, and Chandler ran the rest of the way, sticking his finger up in annoyance.  
  
Some people just didn't care. 


	9. Chapter 9: No More Cry

Everytime  
  
Chapter Nine: No More Cry  
  
Disclaimer: Well, it's ended.... does that mean I get them now? No? Not until it's finished airing? Oh, I think I can wait until then.... ;) (That was all a lie, btw. I don't own the characters in this fic. Not even the mentioned Jake, because he's just appearing 3 seasons earlier than he actually did. Whatever happened to him, anyway?)  
  
A/N: As promised, a speedy update. The only reason for this is that chapters 8 and 9 were originally one, but I was getting to the ending of this chapter faster than I meant to, so I added LOADS in and split it in two.  
  
Something I forgot to mention before.... there is an alternate, "adult" chapter 7 available on the courteney-fan.net fanfic page. For those who would like to read it, the link can be found in my profile. But if you shouldn't read it.... don't. ;) Oh, and you can blame (or congratulate) Monnie for it's existence. She blackmailed me! Okay, that's a lie.  
  
Akemi.... your mind is so tragic... it's tragic. :p Ah, I love your torturing nature. ;)  
  
And Rachna... enough with the threatening. I get enough of that kind of stuff from Monnie, thanks. ;) But you get this chapter anyway, 'cause you rule. ;)  
  
Oh, and sorry if the girlie part is way off.... I'm a guy, see? I don't know this stuff.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica looked up as she heard the doorbell, letting the maid answer it. She heard friendly voices, and, expecting Rachel, stood up and walked to the door.  
  
It swung open, and the maid stepped back to let him walk in, a serious look on his face.  
  
"Chandler," she said softly.  
  
The maid left, looking down at her feet in embarrassment.  
  
Monica turned around and walked back to her chair. "What are you doing here?" she asked tentatively.  
  
"I need to talk to you," he said simply.  
  
She turned on her heel, trying to not to show her nervousness. "About what?" she asked.  
  
He walked over to her. "Sit down," he said, kneeling down beside the chair. She sat, trying not to look at him directly.  
  
"Monica," he started, "I- I need to let you go."  
  
She frowned, still not looking at him, not into his deep brown eyes. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You don't have to choose anything anymore. You should be with Pete. He can give you more than I can," he said.  
  
Monica let her eyes wander, and found them staring into his.  
  
She forced herself to look away. "No," she said. "I know."  
  
Chandler stood up, turning away, but she caught a glimpse of the tears in his eyes.  
  
"I gotta go," he said to the wall, and walked out the door calmly, but she heard him running the rest of the way.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"So," said Phoebe, spitting her gum into its wrapper, and throwing it into the trashcan, "What happened?"  
  
Chandler took out his own gum and followed suit, putting a fresh stick straight into his mouth. It was almost as though he was using it as a distraction.  
  
"Well, I went there, and told her everything we talked about... and then I left. I ran, actually," he said sadly.  
  
Phoebe rubbed his arm, watching his shoe scuff the sidewalk. "Are you gonna be okay?" she asked, looking around at his face.  
  
He smiled at her. "Yeah, I'll be okay," he said slowly. "I just... it was so wonderful, Phoebe. And for a second, one stupid, idiotic second.... I thought it might come true."  
  
She smiled at him, tightening her hold on his arm, which was linked to hers at the elbow. "Chandler...."  
  
"Pretty dumb of me, huh?" he said, watching a cab drive past, and a cyclist zoom across the road when the road went quiet.  
  
Phoebe stopped and turned Chandler's face to her. "Chandler, listen. You are NOT dumb, and you are NOT stupid," she insisted, and her expression softened. "You're just in love," she said. "And there's nothing wrong in that."  
  
He smiled at her. She pointed to the bench behind them, and he sat down next to her.  
  
"Chandler.... I know we were never that close before, but I know you well enough to tell you that you're smart, funny, and a great guy to be with. And you're going to find someone who appreciates that. And Monica does. But you're going to find someone who doesn't have a husband that she is with. And when you do...you'll be so happy, words won't be able to describe it."  
  
Chandler smiled at her. "Thanks, Pheebs," he said. "I just- I just wish that that woman could be Monica."  
  
Phoebe rubbed his arm again, smiling. "I know," she said softly. "Look, I gotta go, Jake and I are having lunch... I'll see you tonight, okay?"  
  
He nodded. "Thanks, Phoebe," he said again. She smiled, and hopped into the cab with drew up at her signal. She waved at him, and he waved meekly back, leaning back in exhaustion against the chair.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Monica sighed as she picked up the phone, not wanting it to ever ring again.  
  
"Monica, why weren't you answering?" asked Rachel anxiously.  
  
Monica rolled her eyes. "I just- I don't feel very good, and I didn't want to talk," she answered truthfully.  
  
"Are you okay? What's wrong?"  
  
Monica sniffed falsely. "Oh, just a cold," she lied. "A-choo!" she said loudly down the phone.  
  
Rachel sighed. "Well, it sounds like you need cheering up!" she said enthusiastically, the grin obvious in her voice.  
  
"No, Rachel-" said Monica desperately.  
  
"Right, I'm coming over, and I'm bringing magazines and cookies," she said excitedly. "We are gonna have one girlie night!" she exclaimed.  
  
"No!" shouted Monica, but the phone had been put down.  
  
Monica banged her head against the wall and slumped to the floor in frustration.  
  
"Some thing wrong, ma'am?" asked the maid in her heavy Spanish accent.  
  
Monica groaned.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"So," said Rachel, her voice muffled by the cookie in her mouth, "how are you lately?"  
  
Monica sat up on the bed, reluctantly taking the cookie Rachel offered her. "I'm okay," she lied, flipping the page in her magazine. "Ooh, look, Cameron Diaz got a new haircut!" she exclaimed, staring at the magazine a little too intently.  
  
Rachel shut her magazine. "Okay, Monica, out with it," she demanded. "What's wrong?"  
  
Monica bit on her cookie and turned the page again. "Nothing," she denied. "Oh, these cookies are delicious!" she said enthusiastically. "Who made them?"  
  
"Me!" smiled Rachel. Monica cocked her head. "Alright, Chandler did. But I found the recipe!" she said, taking another one.  
  
Monica felt her heartbeat quicken, and looked down again. "Oh, okay," she said quietly. "Well, tell him they're really good," she said.  
  
Rachel frowned. "Tell him yourself!" she said. "Don't you guys have lunch like, every two days or something?" she asked.  
  
Monica didn't look up. "Well, yeah..."  
  
Rachel frowned. "Is this something to do with Chandler?" she asked.  
  
Monica didn't answer.  
  
"It is!" exclaimed Rachel. "Oh my god, that explains it!"  
  
"Explains what?" mumbled Monica, still not looking up, resigned to the fact that Rachel was going to find out.  
  
"When I went into the coffeehouse earlier, Phoebe, Joey and Kathy were all gathered around Chandler, and then they saw me and stopped talking!" she said.  
  
Monica frowned. "You mean.... they know?" she whispered to herself.  
  
"Know what?" said Rachel impatiently, bouncing on the bed.  
  
Monica stared at her. "Fine!" she yelled upward, before looking back at Rachel. "I guess you'll find out anyway...."  
  
She cleared her throat. "Okay.... now, don't talk until I've finished, okay? I won't tell you otherwise." Rachel nodded eagerly. "Okay..." said Monica again, "last night, Chandler was over helping me get ready for my dinner with Pete. But Pete didn't show up, so Chandler ate with me. And we had a great time, like normal. It was all great, just like normal. But then Pete called, and I got all upset... and, well, I'm not really sure what happened next."  
  
Rachel was staring intently, looking deeply interested, but she kept her mouth shut.  
  
"And, well... he kissed me." She heard Rachel intake her breath. "Or I kissed him. I'm not sure. Maybe it was both of us. But anyway.... well, he broke away and ran outside."  
  
Rachel frowned.  
  
"And I ran after him- I don't know why. I knew I shouldn't have, but I.... did. And then... well, we almost..."  
  
Rachel took this as the end, and let out her breath.  
  
"Monica... are you serious? You and Chandler kissed?!" she exclaimed. "What about Pete?" she asked.  
  
Monica groaned. "I don't know!" she whined. "Chandler 'let me go' earlier... he said I should be with Pete."  
  
"And should you?" asked Rachel.  
  
Monica sighed. "I'm not sure anymore," she said honestly. "But I'm married to him... Rach, I have to make it work."  
  
Rachel smiled. "I know," she said, rubbing Monica's arm. "Do you wanna talk about it now?" she asked. Monica shook her head. "That's fine," said Rachel, smiling. "Now, let's watch some TV and get your mind off this, okay?"  
  
Monica smiled as the TV flickered on, and Rachel lay down to watch it. Monica took a cookie, and forgot her problems for a few hours, lost in a world of trashy TV and cookies with her best friend.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Monica heard the door slam, and sat up. She wiped her eyes quickly, and stuffed the ruined shirt into her pocket.  
  
"Monica?" called Pete.  
  
"I'm in here," she called back, staring at the floor.  
  
She heard his footsteps draw nearer, and plastered a fake smile onto her face as he entered.  
  
"Hey," he said, holding out a bunch of flowers.  
  
Her fake smile took on a hint of a real one as she looked at the flowers, inhlaing their soft scent. "Pete... that's so sweet," she said, smiling up at him.  
  
He smiled back, and dragged a chair to sit next to her. "I'm sorry I didn't get back here last night, sweetie," he said, smiling. "But I had a big break-through yesterday," he said excitedly.  
  
Feigning excitement, Monica leaned forward. "Really?" she asked, smiling.  
  
"Yep," he said happily. "It's gonna open loads of new doors for us. Lots of money, celebrities, fame.... this is gonna be wonderful."  
  
She smiled, kissing him lightly before hugging him, trying to get her mind off Chandler.  
  
He kissed her head. "You always wanted to move to Paris," he said, smiling.  
  
She froze. 


	10. Chapter 10: Midnight

Every Time  
  
Chapter Ten: Midnight  
  
Disclaimer: The Friends belong to Bright, Kauffman and Crane, and the lyrics are from the Will Young song Leave Right Now. I'm not a particular fan, but the lyrics really fitted...  
  
A/N: And here we are again. Not as speedy as the previous one, but I explained what that one came so lightening fast before.  
  
A note to FlFriend and Rachna: Sorry about those two mistakes- I accidentally uploaded the unproofed version, which is why those two mistakes were in there. That will be fixed right after this chapter is uploaded. Sorry about that.  
  
I hope this situation doesn't seem too cliché or whatever... and when I planned this out, I didn't know about either the Friends situation or the SaTC finale.... And thanks for all the great reviews; they make my day. So, if you wanna make my day again, you know what to do... Oh, and A, it really (happily) surprised when you put me on that author's rec list on FB... [puts A in a suitcase and ships her off to Paris] ;)  
  
*~*~*  
  
He kissed her head. "You always wanted to move to Paris," he said, smiling.  
  
She froze.  
  
Monica pushed Pete's arms from her waist.  
  
"Paris?" she echoed.  
  
He looked at her, looking a little hurt. "I- I thought you wanted to move to Paris. It was- was always your dream, you said," he said slowly, stuttering.  
  
Monica stared at him. "Yes, but that's exactly what it was, Pete... a dream! I never seriously thought about it happening!" she exclaimed.  
  
She got up from her chair and walked to the window at the side of the room, staring out at the rows of houses in the distance. The sun was starting to vanish beneath them, sending out rays through the spaces between the houses. One was resting upon the green lawns in front of the mansion, and Monica watched it, slowly moving away as the sun set.  
  
Pete didn't follow her over, but sat down in her vacated chair. He sighed, evidently tired out. "Monica.... I thought this would be your dream come true. That's why I was so happy about this opportunity! I thought you'd love it!"  
  
Monica turned. "Well, I would, Pete.... but what about my friends? My job? My parents? Am I just supposed to leave them all behind? I love them. I can't just leave them all behind...."  
  
Pete walked over to her, kissing her lightly on the neck, and looking out onto the golden sun with her. He whispered into her ear. "Monica.... just think of your dream. Think of Paris. Think of sunset walks along the boulevard, romantic candlelit nights in together, wine tasting in expensive restaurants... " He turned her body toward him, looking into her eyes. "It could be perfect, Monica. It'd be just us, together."  
  
Monica turned back to the window, needing to get her face away from her husband.  
  
She couldn't say the biggest reason she didn't want to go for... Chandler.  
  
She knew he had 'let her go', but that didn't mean her feelings stopped. She knew it was probably hurting Chandler as much as it was hurting her.... and that just made the feelings deeper. As though his tears were falling onto her skin and becoming embedded in her body, part of her.  
  
Forever.  
  
She felt Pete's head resting on her shoulder, and watched as the last rays of sunlight left the perfect green grass beneath the light pink sky. The sun was not only setting on the day... maybe it was setting on her and Chandler, she thought.  
  
"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll go."  
  
*~*~*  
  
Rachel stared at her. "You're going to Paris?!"  
  
Monica shifted uncomfortably, folding her legs under the table.  
  
They sat together in a dully-lit restaurant, three on each side. Rachel's hand was entwined with Ross' on the left, with Chandler sitting looking uncomfortably on Rachel's other side, while Joey took the centre of the other side, Phoebe facing Ross and Monica trying not to look at Chandler.  
  
Ross leaned forward. "Yo- you can't move to Paris, Mon," he protested. "Everything you have is here, in New York. How can you just leave that and go?" he asked, concern filling his face. Rachel nodded in agreement.  
  
Joey frowned. "Yeah!" he exclaimed to Monica. "You can't just go, like, just pack up and leave." He stared at her. "You really wanna be the one to break up the group?" he asked threateningly.  
  
Chandler sighed loudly, but no one heard but Monica, who looked at him. He gave the smallest of shrugs, and she frowned at him, while the others protested to Monica. Monica searched Chandler's face for any flicker of distress, but before she got to his eyes, Joey pulled at her shirt, and she looked away.  
  
"Mon!" moaned Joey. "You can't leave," he said sadly.  
  
Phoebe kept quiet, her attention focused on Chandler, and, unlike Monica, she saw the sadness in Chandler's eyes, and she sighed, looking sympathetically toward him. He noticed, and turned his head away, looking a little embarrassed.  
  
"I'm going, guys," Monica insisted, not looking them in the eyes. "What reasons are there for staying, apart from you guys?" she asked, sneaking a glance at Chandler, who was staring intently at his shining silver fork.  
  
Rachel put her fork down on her plate, ignoring the fact that Joey was staring hungrily at her chocolate cake. "Well, there's us!" she exclaimed. "Monica, how can you just leave like this?"  
  
"I have to," she answered, glancing at Chandler again.  
  
Rachel frowned. "You're just running away, aren't you?" she said, scrutinising her friend. "You don't want to confront your feelings, so you're just running away from him," she said, looking at Chandler.  
  
"Running away from who?" frowned Ross.  
  
Rachel swallowed. "No one," she said nervously, under a glare from Monica. Chandler hadn't looked up.  
  
Ross frowned, but let it go. He handed his empty plate to the waiter, who distracted them all for a few minutes, bar Monica and Chandler, who looked at each other silently.  
  
She was still searching his face, but he was just looking at her, thinking he would never see her again. After all, it was him she was running from, wasn't it?  
  
The waiter left, and as they waited for the check to arrive, Rachel accosted Monica with questions.  
  
"When are you leaving?" she asked, leaning on her elbows.  
  
Monica swallowed. "Tomorrow," she answered.  
  
Ross stared, and Rachel jerked backward. Even Chandler looked sharply up from inspecting the tablecloth.  
  
"Tomorrow?" echoed Ross. "When did you find out about this?" he asked.  
  
Monica avoided their gaze, playing absently with the sleeve of her shirt. "Only a couple of days ago," she said. "I didn't even talk to you guys yesterday, and I didn't want to tell you over the phone," she said defensively.  
  
Phoebe nodded, but Rachel frowned. "You could have met us yesterday," she said, a little anger creeping into her voice.  
  
"Sweetie," said Ross quietly to her, but she ignored him, turning a little away from him in her seat.  
  
Monica frowned. "Look, it doesn't matter," she said, standing up. "If you guys aren't going to support me, then why are you even here?" she asked, spitting a little in annoyance.  
  
They all spoke at once.  
  
"We do care," said Phoebe quietly.  
  
"Because we want you to stay!" exclaimed Joey.  
  
"You can't go!" said Rachel sadly.  
  
"You're my sister," said Ross simply.  
  
"You should go," said Chandler.  
  
Only Monica and Phoebe heard what Chandler said, and they stared at him, shocked. Joey stood up as well, and Ross looked sadly at Monica before he went with Rachel to get their coats, and they left, throwing upset glances backward.  
  
Joey rubbed Monica's back, and said "I've gotta go, Kathy and I are going out. Monica... please?" he said, and she just looked at him. He collected his coat and pushed the revolving door, looking back before he vanished from sight.  
  
Phoebe was still sat down, staring at Chandler, puzzled. He had said the last thing she had expected. She watched Monica as she sat back down, looking rather fazed.  
  
Monica looked at Chandler, and opened her mouth to speak, but noticed Phoebe.  
  
"Er... Pheebs?" she said, and Phoebe got up, moving toward the bathroom hastily.  
  
Monica looked at Chandler. "Did you just say what I think you said?"  
  
He looked intently at her. "What do you think I said?" he asked annoyingly, a small smile playing on his lips.  
  
She smiled sarcastically. "Chandler, please," she said, and he sighed.  
  
"Yes, I did," he answered. "Because that's what you want to do, and why should I stop you?" he said.  
  
She frowned at him. "So... you don't think I'm running away?"  
  
"From what?" he said innocently.  
  
She cocked her head. "From you," she said.  
  
"Even if you are, it doesn't matter," he said. "You're with Pete, and if that means Paris... then go to Paris."  
  
She smiled. "Really?" she said.  
  
"Yeah," he said, his hand laid out toward her.  
  
It had not been intended for anything; it had just happened to land there- but Monica slid her hand under it, squeezing it lightly. She smiled at him, and then she rose out of her chair, and leaned in toward him, and whispering into his ear.  
  
"Meet me on your building's roof at midnight," she said almost silently, and walked quickly off, before Chandler could say anything back. She took her coat from the check in, and looked back once more before walking out the door.  
  
*~*~*  
  
I'm here just like I said  
  
Though it's breaking every rule I've ever made  
  
My racing heart is just the same  
  
Why make it strong to break it once again?  
  
And I'd love to say I do  
  
Give everything to you  
  
But I can never now be true  
  
So I say...  
  
*~*~*  
  
He pushed the door open, wrapping his coat more firmly around himself as the wind blew it backward, almost making him lose his hold on it. He carefully avoided knocking the rod positioned in the doorway, and walked out onto the roof.  
  
It was a clear night; barely a cloud could be seen in the sky.  
  
He looked around for her. It was five past midnight; she should be here by now...  
  
As he walked around the other side of the entrance, he saw her shadow behind it. He saw her blanket blow in the breeze, the tassels hitting the low brick wall she was standing behind.  
  
She was looking up to the stars, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. She heard his footsteps and looked around. He smiled weakly, but she did not even attempt to.  
  
She motioned him toward her, opening her blanket. He crept underneath it, standing up tall so the blanket fell over her head. She pushed her hair back straight, and looked up at him.  
  
He was staring at the sky, bewitched by the bright stars, like piercing eyes of the sky. Bright eyes, shining down upon them.  
  
She touched his cheek gently, and he looked down. Her lips were wet, and he stared at them, longing to touch them again; but he knew that would be wrong.  
  
He didn't question why she had asked him here; he had just been glad that she had. Glad that she had wanted to see him again.  
  
She stared up at him as he looked out again to the stars. She lightly touched his prominent jaw, glowing softly in the moonlight. She ran her hand from it onto his lips, grazing them gently.  
  
He forced himself not to do something stupid... but all he wanted to do was run his tongue all over her lips, over her mouth. Yet somehow he managed to stay strong, looking out at the stars.  
  
A bright star fell down across the star.  
  
"Make a wish," he whispered, breathing cold air onto her hands, his tongue flickering for a moment upon her skin.  
  
'Tell me I've made the right choice,' whispered Monica, watching the star streak out of sight.  
  
*~*~*  
  
I think I'd better leave right now  
  
Before I fall any deeper  
  
I think I'd better leave right now  
  
Feeling weaker and weaker  
  
Somebody better show me how  
  
Before I fall any deeper  
  
I think I'd better leave right now 


	11. Chapter 11: Phase One

Every Time

Chapter Eleven: Phase One

Disclaimer: _"I own them." Ha, I wish._

A/N: _Okay, so I tried my best to get this done, on top of my building workload in school. Especially with those damn exams coming up. I hope to finish this story before I start them- only a few more chapters to go. Thanks so much for all the great reviews- they really make me feel more positive about the story, and inspire me to get it done quicker. So, keep 'em coming!_

_Thanks to Amber for pointing out my tiny mistake… but as she said, it fits, so it's staying. Of course, it has nothing to do with how lazy I am… Oh, and Heather, you scare me. In a good way, of course. ;) And thanks to BrightBrownEyes, who I _think_ gave me a compliment. ;)_

*~*~*

Chandler shifted his position slightly, moving his sweatpants over the leather of the recliner, making it squeak. In the dull light of the room, the chairs looked black, and the floor was a sea of fog, dangerous to enter. Chandler shivered, grabbing the blanket from behind his head and wrapping it around himself tightly, the wool rubbing against his face roughly.

The lights suddenly shattered through his closed eyelids, and he squinted, seeing the rough shape of someone by the door. He heard the fridge open, and instantly knew it was Joey.

In a futile attempt to hide, Chandler pulled the blanket over his head, internally groaning as he heard the fridge slam shut.

"Dude," said Joey loudly, and Chandler found the blanket whipped away in seconds; to be confronted with Joey's confused face. "What are you doin- oh."

He took one look at Chandler's sweatpants and sighed, pushing the barcalounger around so it faced its sister, where Joey sat down.

"Chandler… I know you're upset about Moni-"

"Upset?" Chandler echoed. "I'm not upset," he said, turning his chair away, only to find Joey swing it back again.

"Well, fine," Joey said in annoyance, standing up. "You don't want me to help, I won't," he said angrily, moving to his door and slamming it. 

Chandler stared at the closed door, wondering why Joey had got upset so quickly, but his thoughts moved immediately to Monica.

Monica, who was in Paris.

Monica, who was in Paris with Pete.

Monica, who was in Paris with Pete, having the time of her life.

Monica, who Chandler loved more than anything that breathed in the same air, the same air that Chandler felt had turned on him.

He pulled the blanket over his head again, slid down into the chair, and tried to fall asleep, Monica's face floating in front of him tauntingly.

*~*~*

Monica stared out of the large window, watching as the sun rose above the building opposite. It shone a golden yellow, bouncing off the raindrops that lay on the slated roof.

The raindrops falling lightly before the glowing sun reminded her of tears, and she felt them running down her cheeks.

Only two days ago she had been in New York, watching the sunrise. The same, golden, glowing sunrise. 

But now she was in Paris. Fashionable, chic, glorious Paris. But it was not her home.

She heard Pete groan as he tried to sit up, and she looked over, still getting a shock as she saw the giant bed of the hotel again. She found herself ashamed of taking advantage of its size, sleeping as far away from Pete as she could, wanting to sleep alone. 

Still. 

Maybe it was because of her dreams of Chandler, of talking with Chandler. Apparently, she talked in her sleep. Chandler had told her. He'd also informed her how cute he found it.

She sighed, and stared out of the window again, watching as the rain pattered off the glass, raindrops falling effortlessly into one another and trickling down to the bottom of the windowpane.

"Honey," grunted Pete, and Monica looked around. "Come back to bed," he said, smiling gently at her.

Monica sighed internally, but smiled back. "No, I'm okay here," she said, pointing outside. "Watching the sunrise."

Pete smiled wider. "Come on," he insisted. "Morning's when I'm at my best, remember?" he said suggestively.

Monica inhaled, and looked away briefly, rolling her eyes. "No… I'm not really in the mood," she said again, hoping he finally got the point.

He pulled the covers off himself and walked over, smiling at her more. She looked out the window, and groaned silently as he started kissing her neck.

She pulled away. "I said no, Pete!" she yelled, flinging her arm back. "Will you just leave me?"

Pete moved away, shocked. "I'm… I'm sorry," he said weakly, rubbing her back, but she just flinched away again. He retreated away, closing the door to the ensuite bathroom a little too hard.

Monica sunk into the cushions on the chair she sat on, watching the sun glint bewitchingly in the rising sunlight.

*~*~*

Phoebe paused before opening the door, and, after a moment's consideration, raised her hand to knock gently at the dark green door.

She waited, hearing movement inside, and a moment later, Chandler's sad face appeared around the door.

"Oh, hi Pheebs," he said, opening the door wider.

She groaned as she saw his sweatpants. "Chandler… aren't you ever gonna get out of phase 1?" she asked, flinging her bag onto the foosball table and following him back over to the lounge chairs.

Chandler rolled his eyes as he pulled the blanket over him again. "Please, god, not you too. I've already had enough of that off him," he said, jerking his head toward Joey's room, from where music was emanating.  

Phoebe sighed, pulling her feet up onto the chairs. "Okay, fine. We won't talk about that," she said kindly, rubbing his knee supportively. "So what do you wanna do?" she asked, sitting forward.

Chandler considered. "TV?" he suggested.

"Okay!" Phoebe grinned, jumping up to grab the remote from the cupboard at the side of the TV. She flicked it on, and the unit opened, the screen already alive and giving off sound.

"Ooh, it's Xanadu!" she squealed, turning her chair excitedly.

Chandler groaned, and Phoebe turned back. "What?" she said cluelessly.

"Phoebe, we watch this EVERY time we're at your place… do you never wonder why we don't come round often?" he asked.

Phoebe looked down. "Oh. Well, in my defence, it is a great movie," she said. "But I guess we could watch something else," she said.

Chandler grabbed the remote from her hands, and pressed the off button. "I don't feel like watching TV," he said, turning his chair away.

Phoebe sighed, humming a tune absently to herself. "Well, what do you want to do then?" she asked.

"Nothing," Chandler asked truthfully, sliding back down into the chair.

Phoebe pulled him back up with surprising strength into a sitting position. "Chandler, you can't just stay here in your sweatpants and cry about Monica," she said, with more compassion in her voice than either would have expected. "I don't want you to get like this again," she said, moving away slightly. "Come on," she said, pulling him out of the chair so he crashed onto the floor. 

"Wh- Where are we going?" he asked, holding the coat she thrust at him confusedly.

She turned as she opened the door. "We're going to get you past phase one," she answered.

"Wait," he said, as she pulled him out the door. "Pheebs… I don't think I'll ever get past phase one."

*~*~*

Monica barely heard the knock over the sound of the shower, but the call after reassured her that she wasn't hearing things.

"I'm coming!" she yelled, running over to the door and opening it. "Oh," she said, as the butler smiled at her, a large breakfast tray in hand.

"Room service, ordered by a Mr. Peter Becker," he said, putting it into Monica's outstretched arms. She stared at the syrup squeezed perfectly on the crisp golden waffles, and sighed.

She stumbled over to the table by the window, putting it down, and headed back over to the door. She scrambled in her pocket for her purse, pulling out 50 francs and handing it to him. He smiled, but she couldn't tell whether it was genuine. She never knew how much to tip; especially not now she had to use a different currency. Either way, the butler left.

She waited for Pete to emerge, knowing that he'd want to hear her thanks before she ate it. 

If she'd been at home with Chandler, then they would have already been devouring it together, laughing as they tried to be the first to finish, both insisting their speedy eating was due to Joey arriving at any second. But Monica loved seeing Chandler's grinning face, his cheeks bulging with toast, crumbs falling onto the plate as he laughed at her attempt to drink her juice in one go.

She sat down in the window seat again, curling her legs up, and watched the rain fall harder onto the street, the thumping drops steaming up the window. 

She tried to block out the questions that had prevented her from getting to sleep last night, but she saw Chandler's face forming in the clouds in the distance, as she cleared the mist from the window.

Why had she come here? She was just more miserable than she had been before. She'd had a life, a job, friends… and now all she had was Pete.

And all the time she was with Pete, she spent thinking about Chandler.

She slid down into the chair, and put her hands over her face, trying to hide away from the world outside.

*~*~*

Rachel waved her hands frantically in the air, trying to direct the billowing smoke out of the tiny kitchen window. The saucepan rattled on the stove, and Rachel put her hands on her head in frustration.

"Ugh! Monica, you could have taught me how to cook before you left!" she groaned, and jumped as the phone started to ring, piercing the air over the saucepan's continued rattling sounds.

Rachel raced over to the phone, grabbing it and hooking it under her head, trying to push the smoke away with both hands. "Hello?" she said loudly, trying to hear over the clattering behind her.

"Rachel?" came a distant sounding voice. "What's that noise?"

"Monica!" she cried desperately. "Something's gone… kinda wrong in the kitchen," she said, trying to grab the handle of the saucepan. "Ow!" she yelped as her finger met the hot metal body.

"What was that?" yelled Monica.

Rachel sucked her finger in pain. "I hit the metal of the hot saucepan," she explained. "Mon, why is it rattling so much?" she asked.

"What were you trying to cook?" asked Monica loudly.

Rachel sighed. "Spaghetti," she answered.

Monica gave a short laugh, but concealed it with a cough. "Sorry," she said. "Just turn off the stove," she said, and Rachel did so.

"Yeah, it's still rattling, Mon," she said.

"Leave it, and it'll calm down," she said. Rachel heard the noise decrease, and cheered. 

"Thanks Mon," she said happily. "What are you calling for, anyway?" she asked. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

Monica sighed. "Yeah… yeah, everything's great," she lied. "I was just calling to see how you all are," she said.

"I'm okay," said Rachel, leaning back on the couch. "I mean, it's a bit lonely hanging out without you, but I'll be okay. Ross is really busy; I don't think he's had time to miss you. But he's been sleeping here every night… he says it's just so I won't be alone, but you know guys…" she said, and Monica laughed.

"How's Phoebe?" she asked.

"She's good… she's been hanging out with Chandler a lot. I think he and Joey have had some kind of fight," she said.

Monica inhaled. "Oh. How are they otherwise?"

"Well, Joey's… Joey. He's missing you, but everyone is, really. And Chandler…" she trailed off.

"Yes?" Monica said immediately.

Rachel paused, thinking of Pete. What good would knowing the truth do Monica? It would only hurt and confuse her.

"He's… doing great," she lied. "He got a pay rise," she said. 

"Oh," said Monica. "Well, tell him congratulations," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Look, I've gotta go, so tell everyone I love them," she said.

"I will," said Rachel, and heard the tone as the phone was put down.

*~*~*

"Chandler, I'm telling you. She's obviously missing you like crazy."

Rachel and Phoebe stood above a slumped Chandler. He was still wearing his sweatpants, and the blanket he had wrapped himself in for the past week still lay behind his head.

"No, she's not," he insisted. "She's in Paris- why would she miss me? She's in Paris, with Pete, probably enjoying spending thousands on clothes. I'm just a tiny memory by now," he said, grabbing his beer from the table beside him and drinking half if it in one go.

Phoebe grabbed it out of his hand and put it over on the counter.

"Hey!" he moaned.

She put her face nearer his. "Chandler… you know she misses you. And you miss her. It's so obvious, a squirrel could see it," she said.

Chandler sighed. "Alright," he said. "Can you prove this? Did she say so?" he asked Rachel.

"Er… no. Not exactly," she admitted. "But… but you could tell!" she insisted, as Chandler rolled his eyes and got up to get his drink again.

Chandler sat down again. "Forget it," he said. "It's pointless. And besides, what do you expect me to do? Fly out there and bring her back? Because I don't think Pete would like that very much," he said.

Suddenly, Joey's door burst open, and everyone whipped around.

"For God's sake, Chandler!" Joey yelled. "Just go! She loves you, it's so obvious, and you're a fool if you don't!" he said.

Chandler stared at him, while Phoebe moved over to him. 

"What?" she said.

Joey sighed. "Look, I went over there when she was packing. And when she thought I'd gone, I saw her put your photo in her pocket," he said.

"So?" asked Chandler. "She could have had one of every one of you," he pointed out.

Joey groaned. "She DIDN'T," he insisted. "Now, please, Chandler. Will you go?"


	12. Chapter 12: Everything I Do

Every Time

Chapter Twelve: Everything I Do…

**Disclaimer:** Y'know, they're done filming… are you sure I can't have them yet?

**A/N:** Well, here we go. I held off publishing for a few days, because I really wanted to get the entire story done before I did. Which I have. So, it shouldn't be too long… some time later this week.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks to Pie for proofing. And to Becca for giving her opinion. You both rock… almost as much as Monica. [sigh]

*~*~*

"Hurry up!"

Chandler's yell echoed around Phoebe's small living room, a few bags lying on the floor in front of him.

"I can't find them!" she shouted back.

Chandler sighed. "Can I help?" he asked desperately.

Phoebe appeared through the bedroom door. "No!" she said. "I can find them," she assured him, and vanished again.

Chandler hopped impatiently. "But Pheebs, the plane leaves in a half hour… we're gonna be late, come on!"

"We'll be okay," she called back. "Ooh, I've got 'em!" she squealed.

"Yes!" Chandler said. "Come on then, let's get going!" he said, picking up the bags.

Phoebe raced out, grabbing her coat from the stand, then she froze.

"What?" said Chandler. 

"Yeah," said Phoebe, putting her coat back. "These are my house keys," she said, running back through the door. 

Chandler groaned and slid onto a chair at the table, tapping his fingers impatiently. "I knew I should have hired a cab," he said to himself.

Phoebe appeared again, grabbing her coat again. "Definitely got them this time," she said, and he followed her quickly down the stairs, bags in hand, and his heart thumping wildly.

This was it.

*~*~*

The rain beat heavily down on Monica's umbrella, dripping sullenly off the edge, making an odd ring of water around Monica, as she stood silent on the corner of the street, purse in hand.

She looked around for the limo, trying to see a long black sleek car amidst the rain and mill of people. She knew she was looking in vain. Pete never managed to arrive on time.

She'd been here a week now, spending all her time either shopping or lazing about in their hotel room. A few days ago Pete had taken a day off his apparently very busy schedule to take her to see an apartment, but she had decided before she had even seen it that she didn't want it.

If they bought an apartment, she knew it would solidify their move. They would officially be living there; it would be her home. And she knew she was being stupid, but she still held out some vain hope that she'd somehow go back home.

Rachel called her every couple of days, sometimes with Ross around. She never got to speak to any of the rest, but Rachel always assured her they were fine.

Monica always found her stomach tweak uncomfortably when Rachel mentioned how well Chandler was; apparently, he had gotten himself a new girlfriend. 

Monica couldn't help feeling bitter. Chandler's feelings for her had apparently been a fluke- as soon as she'd gone, his life went into wonderful mode. 

'I guess I was holding him back,' she thought sadly, kicking the building behind her with the heel of her shoe. 'It's probably best that I left,' she sighed.

She smiled weakly at a couple that passed, seeing their tightly grasped hand. As her upset mind automatically pictured her in that situation, she wasn't surprised to find that it was Chandler who filled the space beside her, not Pete. 

The rain started to beat harder, and it began to come down almost horizontally. Monica groaned as her legs became covered with water, and she ran quickly to the door of the restaurant behind her, taking refuge under the cover.

She put down her umbrella quickly; it's drips on the entrance floor gaining disdainful looks from a waiter nearby. She smiled apologetically, and he gave her a sullen look, so she dropped her expression, walking into the restaurant and looking around.

It was just after lunch, and the restaurant was almost deserted, the polished black and white chequered tiles glinting under the bright lights. She compared it with her restaurant back home; but nothing could beat home in her mind right now. 

She made her way past the few small tables on the bottom floor, up the short flight of steps onto the raised floor, and looked around for a single table. Seeing them all taken, she sat down at a table for four, and a waiter immediately arrived. She ordered an orange juice, and sat back, draping her coat over the chair next to her.

She looked around, seeing a small family on the near table, the baby flicking bits of it's lunch at the child opposite, who was whining to his mother. The mother saw Monica, and she smiled briefly, looking away.

Monica turned her head almost three hundred and sixty degrees, a blush spreading over her face, and her eyes almost leapt from her head.

Chandler was sat, a newspaper open on the table beneath him as her stared through the front window, apparently transfixed by the raindrops running down the glass.

She felt her breath quicken, but she knew there was no other reason than her for his presence, and she slowly made her way over, swallowing incessantly.

"Hey," she said softly, tapping his shoulder.

He looked around, and gasped as he saw her. "Monica!" he cried, and stood up, hugging her tightly. "I've been looking all over for you!" he said, flipping the newspaper closed as he spoke.

She smiled as she hugged him back, but her head was spinning. What in hell was he doing here?

"Hey," she repeated, smiling. "Wh-Wh... What are you doing here?" she stammered.

He expression softened, and he looked her with the gaze that she remembered from only a couple of weeks ago. "I think you know why I'm here," he said.

She stared at him, and she watched his expression, the sparkle in his eyes as he stared back, the deep blue of them as his smile weakened her defenses.

Before she knew what was happening, she burst into tears, water rolling down her cheeks in a sudden burst, as though her tears ducts had exploded. Her knees weakened, and only Chandler's hold on her made her stay up.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, pushing a chair underneath her, as she continued to sob uncontrollably. "What's wrong?" he asked, pulling her chin up to see her face.

She looked at him through her blurred eyes, trying desperately to clear a view, but unable to stop the tears from flooding out. "I- I just- I can't- it's too- too hard- confusing- you… Pete- everything," she said, her words coming out in a jumble, and Chandler tried to make sense of what she was saying, as she continued to cry. "I- when- complicated…" she said, then put her head onto Chandler's shoulder, as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Shhh," he whispered, ignoring the glances of the watching French customers in the restaurant, who had looked around at the sobbing woman in a man's arms.

They sat there for about five minutes as Monica's sobs decreased, Chandler stroking her hair affectionately, his heart bouncing wildly as it understood the fact that the woman he loved was in his arms again.

She finally took her head from his shoulder, wiping the corners of her eyes, still stained with tears. She looked up at him, a small smile resting on his lips, and stared at him, trying to understand why he had come.

"Why are you here?" she asked slowly, absently resting her hand on his outstretched knee, neither of them realizing it.

He gave her a puzzled look. "Why do you think?" he said, stroking her cheek with his hand, which had retracted from her back.

"But… Rachel said you had a girlfriend," she stammered, staring confusedly at him.

"What?" he said. "I don't have a girlfriend," he said. "I didn't do anything the last week, except sit around in my sweats…" he trailed off, as her gaze finally held understanding.

She stood up suddenly, pointing at him, but not threateningly; she just looked oddly scared. "So… what?" she said. "What do you want?" she asked.

"I want you," he said plainly, smiling gently at her.

But the return of his smile did not occur; instead, she suddenly ran out of the restaurant, coat flying behind her as she whipped it from the chair she had been sitting on, leaving her sodden umbrella sitting dripping on the floor.

*~*~*

"What?!"

Ross snapped the word out, staring at his girlfriend incredulously. 

"He's gone to Paris? Why in hell would he do that?" he demanded, his spit flicking from his mouth onto Rachel's face. She wiped it off in disgust, giving him a sarcastic smile.

"Because, you dingbat," said Phoebe, leaning forward with her coffee in hand, "he's in love with Monica."

Ross' face contorted weirdly at this piece of news, and he stuttered incoherently as he tried to understand it all. Rachel looked at him in amusement, while Phoebe just sipped at her coffee calmly.

"Wh… wh…. wh… what?" he said finally. "Since when?" he asked, a look of disbelieve on his face.

"Well, I found out about a month ago," said Phoebe, grabbing a cookie from the plate Ross had put down on the coffee table.

Rachel took a bite from her donut. "Yeah, and Phoebe told me… like a week ago?" she said, looking to Phoebe.

Ross stared at them. "Well… Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

Rachel sighed. "Because… well, because you'd probably insist on beating Chandler up, for a start," she said, putting a comforting hand on her boyfriend's shoulder.

"You bet I would!" he said loudly, trying to jump out off the couch, but Rachel held him back.

"Ross, sweetie…" she said, "I know you're protective"- she coughed- "of Monica, but this is a… delicate situation. Pheebs?" she said, and Phoebe leant forward again.

"Look, Ross," said Phoebe softly. "Do you think Chandler wants to be in love with Monica?" she asked. "Do you think he wants to mess up her marriage?" Ross shook his head slowly. "Exactly," she said. "Ross… he talked to me a lot, since I was the only one who knew. And it was tearing him up, thinking he couldn't have her. But then she seemed to return his feelings… you should have seen the glint in his eye. I mean, he still knew it was virtually impossible, but he'd had her, for a moment, and it changed him… he's so deeply in love with her, Ross… you can't hurt him for it."

*~*~*

The rain poured down on Monica's head, her hair soaked by water, sticking to the side of her face. Her coat dangled sodden from her body, her shirt pressed to her body by the sheer force of the rain. She ran into the park, throwing her hands up in hopelessness as the trees bucketed water down upon her, flowing down the back of her neck and down her legs.

Chandler raced into the park after her, his shirt sticking to his body. He tried to peel it off, but it was just pressed back down, and he carried on, trying to reach her.

"Monica!" he yelled, and she turned, her face soaked, making it unable to tell whether tears lay there.

"What happened to 'I have to let you go?'" she shouted, the rain dripping into her mouth as she spoke. "Are you just… taking all that back?"

He caught up with her, and she moved back a step, wary of his touch. 

"I…" he started. "I… no," he said.

"Then what, Chandler?" she asked, staring at him.

He swallowed, trying to hold back his tears. "I… Joey told me that you took my picture with you," he said slowly.

"So?" she yelled, trying to make her voice heard over the rainstorm above. "I took everyone's pictures," she lied.

Chandler moved nearer. "No, you didn't!" he yelled, his voice followed by a crack of thunder. "You took mine, and only mine! Or if you did take everyone's, then you took TWO of me!" he shouted.

"How the hell do you know **anything**?" she asked, wiping her face free of raindrops.

He moved closer, softly putting his hand up to her cheek. "Monica…" he whispered, barely audible under the rain. "I love you."

Monica tried to speak, but just kept inhaling the rain still hammering down upon them. Chandler slid his hand into hers, entwining their fingers together. She looked down at them, her expression still, her salty tears mixing with the raindrops on her cheeks.

As she looked up, she saw Chandler's face before hers; and before she knew it, their lips were together, capturing each others it a passionate kiss. She moved her hands up to his hair, running them through the rain-drenched strands. She felt his hands move over her back, pulling her body nearer.

"Monica?" came a voice, and they broke apart, Monica's head whipping around.

Pete stood in the gateway, the door of a sleek black limo behind him, and a look of amazement on his face.


	13. Chapter 13: Every Time

Every Time

Chapter Thirteen: Every Time

**A/N:** Well, this is the end. The finale. The last chapter. [laughs evilly]

I have to take this opportunity to thank the following: **Pie, Monnie and Jana**, who all proofed various chapters of this story. **Becca**, who gave her opinion on various scenes at my request. And to anyone, anyone, who reviewed this story. I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and I hope that this chapter doesn't let you down. I hope I've done it well. It is, after all, the first story I've ever finished (with the exception of my sucky four-chapter songfic.) Please review, and tell me if I ended it well.

*~*~*

Pete stood in the gateway, the door of a sleek black limo behind him, and a look of amazement on his face.

"What in hell is going on?" he asked incredulously, moving toward the couple, rain still beating down on them all. He stared at Chandler for a second, bewilderment in his dark eyes, then his gaze skipped to Monica, and the hurt in his eyes made her stomach lurch in fear.

Neither of them spoke. Chandler felt a raindrop trickle down the back of his neck, but he didn't move.

Pete stared intently at Monica, but she did not dare look back. She didn't know what to do, what to say. She tried to use her brain to manufacture an excuse, an explanation, anything; but it had apparently stopped working.

Pete's frozen body suddenly swung into movement, with a strong punch directly in the center of Chandler's face. His hand slipped slightly with all the water covering Chandler's face, but it still made Chandler's nose make a loud cracking noise, and Chandler bent in pain, holding a hand weakly to his face.

Monica bent down with him, still not giving Pete a glance, and pried Chandler's hand easily away, and gasping at the bloody nose Chandler now had.

She took off her coat and put it over his head to protect him from the rain, and handed him a tissue to stem the bleeding.

Then she turned to Pete.

"Pete, I-"

"You know what," he interrupted, "He deserves everything he gets," he said viciously, and kneed Chandler in the stomach.

"Ow," wheezed Chandler, as Monica gasped again.

"Pete, I thought we could talk about this, but if you're just going to do that, then it's over," she said shortly. "I was unsure that there was anything left to salvage in our marriage- now it's obvious there isn't." She turned and bent down to aid Chandler again, but Pete pulled her back up, and shocked her by pulling her into a kiss.

She wrenched her lips away, glad the rain was washing her lips clean again. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked indignantly, staring at him.

"My right- kissing my wife," he answered shortly. His expression softened. "Monica, I don't understand… where did all this come from? What, have you been… been having an affair with him or something?" he asked, without even looking to Chandler.

"I… no," she answered. "Look, Pete, our marriage was nothing. You were always at work, and what did I get? All you seemed to want me for was prettying up your arm at parties, and sex, sex, sex. Does that sound like a marriage to you, Pete?" she asked. "Because it sure as hell doesn't to me."

Pete stared at her, trying to see past the obvious distress and distrust she had when she looked at him, but he couldn't. He refused to think that that was all that was there. He knew something had to be there.

"Well?" she prompted.

Pete sighed. "Look, I know I wasn't the most attentive," he admitted. "But I work, Monica, and you knew that. You always did."

"I didn't know you worked this much!" she exclaimed. "I figured that one or two days a week, you wouldn't be around, maybe. And fine, I thought. But you're away about five, six days, and even on the others, you always work in your study. And then like, every night, you come to bed at about midnight, and expect me to have sex with you, even if I'm asleep? I hardly think that _that_ is a good marriage."

Pete paused. "I didn't ask for sex every night," he said quietly.

She sighed. "Pete, it just doesn't work any more," she said. "I can't do this any more. I can't just be there, when you want me. I can't just be your woman, who you parade when you want, or otherwise shove out of sight. I can't. I just can't."

"Why not?" he pleaded. "Monica, why is this happening? Why now?"

She sighed. "Look, it's too complicated. But things change, Pete. You've changed, I've changed… and if it doesn't work when that happens, then what's the point? If it was meant to be, Pete, we'd be able to cope with changes. But we can't. I can't."

"But why him?" he asked, gesturing in Chandler's direction.

Monica stared at him. "He's my friend," she answered simply. "He understands me. He knows me better than anyone. He's always there when I need him, when I want him. To talk to, to listen to. To laugh with, to cry with. With him, I can be myself. Even when we were together happily, it was hard for me sometimes, Pete," she said softly. "I had to work hard, when with him… it's simple. It's easy. And I know that it can work, because it feels right," she said, her expression softening. 

She started to turn away, but Pete held her sleeve, and she turned back.

"Did you ever love me?" he asked softly. She saw the tear in his eye.

"Yes," she answered truthfully. "I did. But not now."

He swallowed. "Are you in love with him?" he asked, motioning at the still crippled Chandler.

She stared into his eyes, and for the first time, she felt not hate or anger, or distrust in her eyes, and Pete saw none, either. 

"Yes," she answered softly, and turned away.

She bent down again to Chandler, and kissed him on the forehead. He pointed at Pete, and Monica watched as Pete walked slowly back to the limo.

He paused before he got in, glancing one more time at his wife and her best friend on the grass in the park, still getting soaked by the rain from above.

"Good luck," he shouted, and shut the door behind him, the limo speeding away down the street.

As the limo vanished, Monica looked out onto the horizon, visible down the long street she had stood on waiting for Pete to arrive in the first place. A tinge of sunlight could be seen under the widening clouds, and above, the rain lessened, but it still trickled over Monica's exposed arm, her coat covering Chandler's head.

"Chandler?" she said. "Are you okay?" she asked concernedly, lightly pushing up his chin and seeing his eyes staring at her.

"Yes," he whispered, and pressed his lips against hers, keeping her body where it was, holding her with soaked hands; and she closed her eyes, feeling his soft touch caress her lips, being able to fully enjoy, savor and memorize his kiss, unhindered by guilt.

She was free.

As he broke away, she said something soft and incomprehensible, slowly opening her eyes. 

"Is it over?" he whispered, his forehead touching hers, their eyes in close proximation, the deep blues of their eyes bewitching the other.

"Yes," she said, and softly touched his lips again with hers. "It is." She pulled away, pulling the tissue from his nose. "God, it's really bleeding. We'd better stop it, or you'll lose loads of blood," she said concernedly, helping him up.

"Okay," he said. "But we can go home after, right?" he asked. "I'm sick of Paris."

"Me too," she admitted, slipping her hand into his as she helped him along.

*~*~*

"Ow."

"Sorry."

Chandler winced again as the cotton bud made contact with his nose, slowly stopping the blood flow. About ten discarded bloody buds lay beside them in the trashcan.

Monica leant in to look more closely. "Okay, I think it's stopped… oh, no it hasn't," she observed, grabbing another bud and holding to his nose. He winced. "Look, I'm helping you here. Can you try and stay still?" she asked, smiling despite herself.

"Sorry," he said, smiling back. "But, hey, it's not exactly my fault my nose got bashed in," he said.

Monica dabbed at his nose. "Well, no one made you fly here," she said, smiling again.

"That's not true," he said immediately. "And besides… are you complaining?" he asked, smiling, his head bent to the side.

"Not in the slightest," she answered softly, kissing him again. "Oh, y'know," she said, resting her forehead against his, "I could do this all day."

"Yeah?" he said, smiling at her. "Well, be my guest," he said, and pulled her head forward, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, their lips sliding perfectly into each other. He ran his hands through her hair lightly as she kissed him again, smiling under her lips.

She breathed deeply as he moved away, taking hold of the cotton bud from her delicate hand. He touched his nose, but no blood came onto his hand.

"Look," he said, and she looked up, then down at his direction. "No blood."

She smiled. "That's good," she said, giggling at his expression after her obvious statement.

He leant forward, his lips brushing his cheeks as he moved his mouth to her ear. "Can we go home now?" he whispered.

*~*~*

"Look, there they are, there they are!"

Phoebe pointed into the distance at the escalator, a crowd of buzzing people descending it. Light shone in through the huge glass wall at the side, planes moving around on the runways outside. Sun bounced off the metal sides of the stairways and escalators, filling the room with beautiful light.

Phoebe ran forward, followed by the three others, pointing excitedly as she saw Monica and Chandler moving down the escalator, smiling happily at each other. As they stepped off, they saw Phoebe, and Chandler grinned at her.

"Pheebs!" he called, as she ran over, bouncing into his outstretched arms. "Woah!" he said, as he bent backwards under her excitement. "How are you?" he asked, kissing her cheek as they pulled apart.

She smiled. "Never mind me, how are you?" she asked, grinning as she saw Monica's hand entwined with his.

"Great," they answered in unison, laughing as they heard themselves.

The others reached them, Rachel and Ross also hand in hand.

"Hey man," said Joey, hugging Chandler quickly, and kissing Monica on the cheek. "I see things are good for you two," he said, smiling.

Rachel hugged Monica, whispering something in her ear, which made Monica laugh. Rachel pulled away and hugged Chandler, whispering a "congratulations" into his ear. He smiled back, which dropped when he saw Ross' silent face.

"Ross," Rachel whispered pointedly.

Ross moved forward, making Chandler swallow involuntarily. Ross' face came nearer, and Chandler leant back in fear.

"Welcome back, man," said Ross, smiling and winking at him, pulling him into a hug. Chandler sighed in relief, and patted Ross on the back.

"I was really scared then, y'know," he said, and Ross winked at him again. 

Monica smiled at the moment, and leaned in to give her brother a hug after he pulled away from Chandler. 

"Are you alright?" he asked in her ear.

"I'm fine," she answered. "Thanks for being okay," she said, as the others started talking nearby. 

Ross smiled at her. "He loves you," he said. "Do you love him?" he asked.

"I do," she answered, smiling over at Chandler, who was grinning widely as Phoebe chattered away. "I really do."

"Good," he said, kissing her cheek. He took hold of the bags she had put down beside her. "Want me to carry these?" he asked.

"Thanks," she said. "Now, can we go?" she said, making the others look around.

"Definitely," said Chandler, picking up his bags and kissing her quickly.

The others followed Ross and Chandler, walking slowly through the crowd with the bags in hand.

"Y'know," said Ross suddenly, "I never liked Pete anyway."

Everyone snorted.

*~*~*

"Look, I can't get the door open…"

"Mmm… do I have to stop?"

It was dark outside, the hall flooded with dull light from the lamps on the wall, electric lights of the city twinkling through the window. In the otherwise deserted hallway, Monica struggled to keep hold of the bags as Chandler kissed her neck affectionately. 

She tried to fiddle with the lock, smiling as he moved his lips to her mouth.

"Got it," she murmured, and they made their way slowly through the door, still kissing. She slammed the door behind them, and dropped the bags, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She swayed with him as he rocked her back and forward, still pressing his lips firmly against hers. She saw it was dark, but the light from outside lit the room up slightly, and cast romantic shadows over his face, smiling down at her.

She looked around as he took the bags into her old bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot. 

Her heart leapt with happiness at being back in this apartment; it was her home. She felt bad she'd ever left. Everything looked so wonderful to her eye.

She pushed the window open and clambered out, pulling her coat around herself as the wind picked up, flushing her cheeks. Her hands rested on the edge of the balcony, looking out to the city, buzzing with life as the night began. She spotted Ross sitting on his couch, apparently engrossed in a wildlife documentary, and she smiled.

She heard movement behind her, and smiled as Chandler clambered out after her, zipping his coat up as he felt the cold.

"What're you doing out here?" he asked, as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hair softly.

"Just… looking," she answered, her heart beating faster as she felt his hands on her waist, pulling her body nearer.

"Okay," he whispered, brushing his lips against her ear. "Wanna go inside?" he asked, and she smiled at him.

"I'll be in in a minute," she answered, kissing him passionately as he began to turn away. Her touch lingered on his lips, and he walked back inside, taking up a bunch of candles from a cupboard, and disappearing into the kitchen.

She looked out again onto the city, watching the lights of tall blocks twinkle at her. She smiled.

Everything had worked out for her. For them. She had never believed that she would have been here, with him, happy… but she was.

She smiled, pulled her coat around her, and made her way inside.

Every time she saw his face, her heart beamed. Every time, she had to smile. Every time, she had to love him.

Every time.


End file.
